September 1st, 2007: my first day of 4K. A whole new environment for me to explore, without my mother by my side.

I’m jittery as my mom drives me to school, but she reassures me that everything will be fine and she is only a quick phone call away. She says, “Here you are!” and opens the minivan door. I burst into tears.

“Mommy, please walk me up?” I ask in a questioning tone while trying to hold my emotions in. 

“Okay, sweetie.” I wipe my tears and grip her hand, almost causing nail marks in her flesh. I see my teacher Mrs. Basse. She smells so unique and so inviting, it calms my anxiety slightly. My mom begins a small conversation with her then looks at me and says,

“Hun, it’s time for me to go now.” 

I start bawling. Again. To get me to stop she exclaims,

“Ice cream after school if you stop crying!” And so I do. 

Mrs. Basse walks my classmates and I to our classroom and introduced herself. She was one of the most charismatic and captivating people I’ve ever met. Her locks were curled in perfect spirals and her teeth were as white as snow. The day went on fine and I met my peers, but my mom was always in the back of my mind. It was scary being in a position where I was with complete strangers, because I had never met any of my classmates before. 

The bell rang at 4:00, and I sprinted outside to see my mom’s black minivan parked right outside of the school. I ran to her car to see that my sister, Megan, had been picked up before me. I squeezed her tight and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

“Time for ice cream!” I shouted. 

My mom and I continued to talk about my first day while we drove to the Merton Custard Shoppe in downtown Merton—this was Megan and my favorite place. We would bike on warm summer days with our neighbors because it was only a couple blocks from my house. I get up to the cashier and ask for a “big girl” scoop of vanilla ice cream. 

The day was beautiful—not a cloud in the sky. We sat outside eating our mouth-watering ice cream. I realized that maybe school wasn’t so bad. If Megan can do it so could I, I want to be just like her. From then on, I never missed a day of elementary school nor cried about going. This memory reminds me that sometimes just the thought of going is a fear factor, but you never know until you try.