Little Miss Independent

Grade one; first day of school.

The chattering of nervous parents echoes around the courtyard, children with oversized hats and checked uniforms hold onto their parent's hands and giggle nervously, wondering what is in store for them that day. A teacher with short fuzzy brown hair and sun-damaged skin blows a whistle and yells across the sea of Our Lady of the Angel's newcomers,

"Alright, everyone in rows of two, please! We are heading up to the classrooms now. Mums and dads, follow behind."

The chattering begins again. This is it. The day that it all begins. Some children begin to cry,

"But Muuuum, I don't want to go!"

"Thomas, this is how it is. Now stop being so silly and behave like the other kids," says Carol, Thomas' Mum.

Just as she says this, one of the other children begins to erupt in tears, shrieking and wailing like a toddler.

"Muuummmmyyyy! I don't want to be a school kid. Waaaaaa!"

And so, it continues...

Once everyone is up in their respective classrooms, the introductions begin. The teacher with the fuzzy hair is named Ms. Macintosh, and she is my teacher.

I feel myself bubbling with nervousness and excitement. I had been looking forward to this day since the end of pre-school. Honestly, I couldn't think of anything better. I already feel like school is where I belong, and it is only day one... What can I say? I'm an enthusiastic child.

"Clare Goodwin?" I hear Ms. Macintosh's voice call me as I'm woken out of my daydream about how great school is going to be.

"Yes," my little voice peeps.

"You and Madeleine are going to be buddies."

I nervously walk over to Madeleine, excited to meet my first potential friend.

"Hi," I say.

"Hi," she says.

"I'm Clare."

"I'm Maddie."

"Want to be friends?"

"Yes!"

We grab each other's tiny hands and begin jumping up and down together, giggling and saying "Yayyy," so happy that we are going to be friends.

It's day two of grade one. I cannot wait to get back to the classroom.

"Hurry up, Mum! We are going to be late!" I yell up the wooden stairs of our two-story red brick house.

"Coming, Clare," Mum says as she walks down the stairs, rolling her eyes. "We still have plenty of time."

We live across the road from the school, so it's only a short distance to walk. I already feel very familiar with the school and love that I am going to be learning more things that day.

School is the best! I think to myself.

As we walk up to the church steps, I turn around to my Mum and say,

"It's okay Mum, I can walk from here. You can go back home."

My mother is in shock. She stares at my little five-year-old face and says,

"Clare, it's only your second day. I'd like to walk you up to the classroom."

"Fine," I say. "But I don't want to hold your hand this time."

I hear my Mum behind me saying in a mimicking voice,

"Fine, little miss independent."

It brings a sneaky smile to my face. I like the sound of that.

As we walk up to the entrance of the classroom again, there are three children latched onto their mother's ankles like baby koalas as we head to the pathway. All of them are screaming and crying. Today is the first day that parents aren't allowed in the classroom, after all.

I think to myself, what babies, and say to my Mum as we get to the doorway,

"Okay, here is far enough. Goodbye."

"Oh, okay Clare, you little miss," says my Mum.

One of the other parents turns around from the bag lockers and gives my Mum a raised eyebrow, thinking I won't notice.

"Wow, she's an eager beaver, isn't she?"

"Yes, she certainly is.”

She gives me a big hug and a kiss, tells me to 'behave myself' (like I wouldn't), and I scamper up the stairs to my second day of grade one.

When I get to the top of the staircase I look down to where my Mum is still standing and yell out,

“Love you, Mummy!”