Back to School

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It seems summer vacation is ending much earlier than it did "in my day" (I'm over 40 I'm allowed to say that without irony). I did however start school slightly later than everyone else. Most people started school shortly after Labor Day, however, since I went to a very Cuban-American grade school (1st-8th grade) we didn't start until after September 8 which is the feast day of Cuba's patron saint La Virgen de la Caridad (Our Lady of Charity).

But my favorite part of going back to school was, of course, shopping for school supplies. Even now I'm a bit of an office supply junkie, but school supplies are so much better. Because I went to a private school we didn't have to worry about shopping for clothes because we had a uniform so it was all about the supplies. I know that today parents usually get a list ahead of time for what to get, but 142 years ago, when I was in grade school, the parents got nothing ahead of time. So before school started we would head off to the now defunct Zayre's, which was sort of like a Wal-Mart only not soul-suckingly evil, and buy general stuff.

General stuff was pencils - I would get 2 packs of pretty yellow unsharpened #2 pencils, a pencil sharpener - the black one with the domed plastic lid, depending on the grade either spiral notebooks or plastic three-ring binders with three hole punched college ruled paper, a wooden ruler, and starting around 5th grade we had to get ball point pens - a pack of blue, a pack of black and a pack of red. Then there was the matter of a carrying method - this was before backpacks and rolling suitcases were an option. When I was little I would get a book bag that looked like a soft sided briefcase with a buckle on the front - I can't find a picture of anything like it. Later on I was too too cool for book bags so I got those elastic book bands with hooks to hold the books together and hitched the pile of books and notebooks on my hip. Oh and there was that glorious time when the Trapper Keeper entered my life - as John Mayer said (although he was talking about the 80s generation it applies to me as well) it was "the genesis of obsessive compulsive disorder for my generation." I never needed a pencil case or pencil box because my mom would get me bank deposit pouches from work.

On the first day of school the teacher would give us the list of specific items we would need - crayons, scissors, and as we got older calculators, protractors, compasses (shudder!), etc. But best of all, we would get our books for the year. Again, because I was in private school we would buy our books, so each year we would get brand new books - people didn't sell used text books back then. I remember the crack sound when I opened them, the smell of new book...they were so pretty and shiny, so full of promise. Later that night my father would cover them, first in clear contact paper to protect them and then with whatever book covers I had chosen for the year which wound up lasting about a week tops. It was awesome.

Then of course, the second day of school we'd get homework and everything went downhill from there as I counted the days to the next summer vacation.

I hope everyone's 2009 back-to-school day is (or was) uneventful and full of promise!

image sources: pencil sharpener, elastic book bands, bank deposit pouch, clear contact paper

Wait! When did they grow up?

In talking with a friend yesterday the subject of kids - specifically teenagers - came up. As you know I have no children, but most of my friends do and I was in the hospital either during or shortly after many of them were born. And frankly, I consider them sort of *my kids*. OK, not technically my children, but at the very least my nieces and nephews. In other words I love them and have watched them grow and become pretty amazing people.

This year, the oldest batch turns 19.

19!!!

What the hell? 19 is old. Well, for a kid. Not to mention how old it makes me (sigh).

Anyway, we were talking about how, despite some very, very minor mistakes they really are all good kids. Very good kids. When I read about the myriad of problems with "today's kids" I'm shocked and thankful that all that stuff is not a reality in *my* kids' lives.

Now, all of these kids went to private schools - as I did. I realize that private school, specifically in our upper-middle class "Miami Cuban" society, is almost a parallel universe to the *real world*. As I was talking to my friend I acknowledged that I had grown up in a pretty, pastel-hued bubble of a world, surrounded by friends and family, in small schools where everybody knew my name and feeling absolutely secure in the knowledge that I was never alone, that someone was always there for me, that I was always loved.

Then somewhere in my mid twenties reality hit. And it hit hard. It almost knocked me out. OK, wait. Despite the drama queen that I am, I'm not deluding myself into thinking I ever came anywhere close to "hitting rock bottom" - but it was rock bottom enough for *me*.

The thing is, I realize that when reality had the audacity to intrude in my rainbows and unicorns bubble it knocked me for a loop precisely because I lived in that bubble. So the question came up - is it better to raise a child in "a pretty bubble" only to have the snot knocked out of them at some point when they're older, or should you not protect your kids that much, should you let them see some of the ugliness of reality?

In my opinion - bubble away! As long as kids lucky enough to have the opportunity to live in a secure, nurturing and loving environment *know* that they're very lucky and don't take it for granted and don't feel entitled - I think it's OK. I'm not saying to spoil children by giving too much and expecting too little - I'm just saying that reality will eventually happen to them.

I know that I'm glad that when *the real world* hit me that I was in my 20s and not 14, or 17 or even 19. Maybe that's why it didn't break me.

19? My God - how is that even possible? I remember when she was all tiny and pink...when he was all scrunchy and shrieking. When did she become a beautiful young woman, and he a handsome young man? I don't want them to know too much reality just yet. I want to protect them for a little bit longer - not too much longer I know - but still, for a couple of more years maybe?