2.26.2014 - First Grade

As I struggled to stay awake, I felt the warm glow of the sun as it basked through the tall, old window and landed on my arm. The end of the day was finally almost here. The clock hung over the door to our classroom like an armed guard at Buckingham Palace. I stared at it and watched the hour hand make its way toward the big "3" in a way that made time seem to slow down. I looked to the front of the classroom, and all that entertained my view was the backs of the heads of other kids in the rows ahead of me, and a dark green chalkboard at the front of the room that had been wiped off, and cleaned with a wet rag. It was the first time I had ever really seen the true color of the chalk board without a light coating of chalk dust on top of it. What once seemed like a dusty, messy board filled with math problems, vowels and misspelled words now sat empty, glaring at me with a sense of disdain about itself as the late May sun cast the light of freedom onto its bottom left corner. In four minutes, I wouldn't have to stare at that green giant, or breathe chalk dust for the next three months, but I don't think I've ever watched four minutes tick by so slowly. After staring at the clock for what seemed like an eternity, I looked back to the front of the room to hear our teacher, Mr. Randon, having a discussion with us about our summer plans. It was when he asked us about ours, that I saw 20 hands shoot up into the air; the kids below them doing everything in their power to contain their excitement and be called on first.

Most of my classmates were looking forward to going on these huge vacations, playing with Mickey Mouse's ears, and stuffing their faces with enough funnel cake to burst. Me? I was going to enjoy the average suburban kid summer. The weekdays were to be spent riding my bike around town, formulating adventures to go on, and finding new places to see. The weekends would be spent around cartoons, Nintendo, and the best PB&J's in the world. That's all their was to it, really.

Of course, Nate was going to be accompanying me on these journeys. He was always a great companion to have along. He was also always more courageous than me. Nate was that kid that always wanted to try something before anyone else, and he didn't worry about consequences all that much. He's also my best friend, and has been since pre school. We met at a summer camp not far from my house. I was sitting on a log by the lake, skipping stones across the water when he came up and skipped a stone that had me on my feet, counting on two hands out loud the number of skips it made before finally settling. He asked me if I wanted to learn to skip a rock the right way, and ever since, I don't think there's been a time where he hasn't suggested that he do something "the right way".

Ever since I knew Nate, I've seen him get into trouble a lot more than most kids. I watched him do a backflip into the ball pit at Fun World during his 4th birthday party, which got him yelled at by one of the people who worked there. I also watched right after that as he tried to eat an entire piece of pizza in one bite. That band-aide didn't come off his tongue for at least two weeks. Nate always had my back, and as soon as that bell rang, so would begin another summer, skipping rocks out by the log on the lake, trying to figure out what cartoons we should watch that Saturday morning.

Just then, I heard the most glorious sound that any first-grader could want to hear: the final bell on the last day of school. For the next 60 seconds, a combination of panic and joy erupted in my classroom as all of my classmates stampeded toward the door, thinking that it would be possible to somehow squeeze all twenty of them through the 3-by-6 foot opening. The day I had been waiting for since last August had finally come, and as soon as I walked outside, I could taste the freedom as a fresh breeze splashed a gust of warm summer air onto me. It was the simplest, yet greatest feeling of joy anyone my age could experience. I swung my backpack onto my shoulder, got onto my bus, and as it pulled away, stared at the large brick fortress that I wouldn't have to return to for three months. Summer was officially here.

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