School started this week for us. Yes, we begin our new year in July, when the rest of the world is still vacationing at the beach or away at summer camp.When I was young I had a very different take on the term "Back To School." It meant the end of summer and daily trips to the neighborhood pool. There wouldn't be anymore weekend camping trips to Silver Lake. At the end of August we would take our annual trip downtown to J.C. Penneys to purchase our school dresses (plaid with white Peter Pan collars) and new shoes.
We already knew who our teacher would be. Our school always gave that info on the end of the year so you could worry about it all summer if you got the one mean teacher in second grade (yes, this did happen to me). There was usually only one or two teachers per grade level so there really wasn't much mystery involved.
Our moms didn't drive us to school on the first day. They didn't have to worry about the scary monsters we do today. They packed our lunch pails (only the really cool kids got brown paper bags) with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, gave us a nickle for milk (No Capri Suns for us) and hustled us out the door. We walked in packs of 4 or 5 and got there in time to have a game of kick ball or tether ball or four square before the bell rang.
Back in the "good old days" we didn't bring backpacks to school. If we had important papers we wadded them up and shoved them in our lunch pails or carried them. Teachers didn't have to send home supply lists of pencils, crayons and paper. The school provided these things. Maybe the budgets were bigger. There were always enough books for everyone.
Instead of tests, standards and benchmarks and more tests we had art and music mixed in with reading, writing, science, math and Social Studies.
Sometimes I wonder how we survived at all.
