If you were to look through the photo albums (how people stored printed pictures they took with cameras, for those of you under the age of 30) at my parents’ house, you would find a lot of pictures of me and my sister when we were kids. But what you won’t find are pictures of us on our first days of school every year. I checked with my wife last night, and her parents didn’t take pictures of her on first days of school either. It’s not that we grew up with terrible parents–but back in the late 1970s’s and the 1980’s, you just didn’t celebrate the mundane like everyone does now.
I do remember my first day of kindergarten–and it was nothing like the experiences I see on social media (and traditional media) today. First off, it was truly my “first day” of school. We did not have Early Childhood programs or four-year old kindergarten back then–because school districts weren’t obsessed with increasing “enrollment numbers” to get more state revenue. I mean parents did a better job of making sure their kids were ready to learn by the age of five. And this was just half-day kindergarten–because, again revenue, I mean “experts” didn’t think kids needed to be away from home that much at the age of five back then.
I was roused from bed by my mother at 6:30–which was to be my wake up time for the next 13-years. Classes started at 8:00 back then because “educational experts” hadn’t claimed that kids need to start learning later in the day at that point. I had a bowl of cold cereal for breakfast–most likely Cheerios. There was no special breakfast at a restaurant with pancakes or waffles with Mom and Dad and both sets of grandparents to mark this “special occasion”.
After I got dressed, Mom walked me to the end of the driveway to wait for the bus. Dad had already left for work (he didn’t take vacation that day)–but he did dab a little of his Aqua Velva behind my ears so “the girls would like me”. A 45-minute bus ride through rural Manitowoc County with 25 other stops to pick up more kids would get me to school–not a ride in the family Oldsmobile. When the bus came, I got on and took my seat–and my Mom went back into the house. There was no crying, no last-minute hugs, no running alongside the bus waving frantically and telling me to “be brave!!”
When we got to Valders Elementary School, I got off the bus and went into the main doors. The teachers, staff, administrators, janitors and other parents were not lined up on the sidewalk waving pom-pons, dancing to music, or cheering–like we were the Vietnam vets coming back from an Old Glory Honor Flight to the heroes’ welcome they never received after their service to our country. I remember a very nice lady asking me what grade I was in–and directing me to the kindergarten room.
There, Miss Hutchinson greeted us and took us to her side of the open-concept classroom that was shared with another kindergarten class. She introduced herself and told us the rules by which we were expected to abide: sit quietly, pay attention, raise your hand if you have a question or would like to speak, and be nice to each other. She did not tell us all about her personal life, nor did she instruct us to call her by her first name (which to this day I could not tell you what it was). While she was very kind and supportive, she never told us to consider her a “friend”–because a five year old doesn’t need an adult “friend” at school–they need a teacher.
And when that school year was done, Miss Hutchinson congratulated us on completing kindergarten and wished us good luck in 1st grade. There was no “Kindergarten Graduation Ceremony” with little caps and gowns, attended by parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and family friends, with cake and fruit punch in the lunchroom. We all got on the bus and went home for the summer. A certificate of completion was mailed to the house a few weeks later.
And those first days–and last days of class–were all the same at Saint Mary’s Grade School, Saint John the Baptist Grade School, and Bay Port High School. “Welcome to class, I’m your teacher, now open your textbooks to chapter one……” Going to school was what was expected of you, and there was no reason to get too excited about that.
Despite the fact that every small “accomplishment” of our youth was not celebrated by every adult involved in our lives, my generation still managed to achieve some pretty good academic records. Just 32% of kids scored below “proficient” in reading in Wisconsin in 1981. Today, that mark is doubled–66% of kids do not read at grade level in the state. Math proficiency is just as poor–again 66% failing to reach grade level. My generation also put Wisconsin consistently at number one or number two in average ACT scores. Today we are 33rd–although to be fair, back then only college-bound kids took the ACT–today, all high school juniors in Wisconsin are required to take it, and that is going to lower the average scores.
So here’s a suggestion to today’s “everything on social media” parents: save the memory space on the cellphone that would be used for all of the “1st Day of Junior Year” photos and instead screenshot those grades and standardized test scores. Those are what we should really be “celebrating”.
