Step+1

__Memory__

A blur of children’s voices, school bells and bus exhaust rushes towards my ears. I am numb, the assault fails and the troops scatter. Shuffling forward I secure my place in line. One step, two steps, last step and I’m on the bus. I slide into the first open plastic coated enclave to avoid holding up the line. Reclining into the back of the bench I find myself drifting away. I forget about where I am everything becomes detached. “Caitlin!” I am slammed back to Earth. The bus is stationary. Why isn’t it moving? Oh, it’s my stop. Haphazardly I gather my backpack and coat and scurry towards the door. After the steps I am almost free. The driver signals all clear and I run past the bus onto my driveway. As the bus trundles on the day hits me. All the sound comes rushing back, all the color comes sweeping in and I feel it all. The warmth of the sun on my face and the air in my lungs reminds me that I’m alive.

Tempting though it is to drop my backpack, run off into the woods, and not be seen until dinner time, I walk slowly towards the front door. “Mom I’m home” I call from the entryway taking care to slide off my shoes and hang my jacket in the hall closet. I make my way down the hallway dragging my backpack against the cream carpet. After a quick deposit of my backpack in my room I head for the closed office door. //Knock knock tap.// “Come in!” I go in. There’s my mom sitting at her desk, a cup of coffee to the right, the phone to the left. “How was your day?” she asks me. I look down then glance up. My throat is constricting and I haven’t even opened my mouth. I feel tears pricking the corners of my eyes so I look down again. “Did you have a bad day?” I nod. She pulls me onto her lap and into her arms. After a few moments and many deep breaths I feel ready to tell her. Basically it was like this: We had an assignment for class (3rd grade). I did it but it got kind of crumpled in my backpack as it was transported to school. When I took it out and handed it to my teacher he looked at it and scowled. “I won’t take that paper. Next time do it more neatly please.” I was devastated. This was my first offense and there wasn’t so much as a warning. I loved school and I did well. This made everything look bleak. After that I didn’t want to go to school. Things got worse and some mornings my mom would have to come **get** me out of bed. She became worried and upset. But what could be done if the student didn’t want to go, didn’t want to learn? On a friday (I don't remember the date) in February she took out of school to visit The Susquehanna School. A private school located thirty minutes from home. We pulled up to a pink painted tin building with a large asphalt yard encircle my a chainlink fence and I couldn't believe my eyes. This was a school? Boy was it a school! There were not desks, no tests, no grades! I had two recesses instead of gym. When we were learning about a subject say physics, we built a roller coaster. It was so different. We were learning about things public students wouldn't learn until 6th grade and I only in 3rd. But the subject area wasn't the only difference, the whole method of teaching and the techniques of learning were varied. The atmosphere was open and free like the child inside me was (still is). I visited on a Friday and started school on Monday, and you know what? I liked going to school.