I don’t want to scoop myself, as I’ve already written up my impressions of my visit back to the elementary school I attended, which HarperCollins will be posting on its pageturn blog. So I’ll share some of the things I did not include in that post, such as the adorable fact that the hallway leading down to the library was temporarily renamed in my honor and lined with copies of my book covers.
In the library, another welcoming display. The librarian found my sixth-grade picture in an archive (prompting nights of wonder–what else is in that archive?) and created a poster that incorporated some thankfully unscathing kid-reviews of TEACH YOUR BUFFALO TO PLAY DRUMS.
It’s possible my memory fails me, but when I attended P.S. 184Q, I don’t remember muffins and cookies and cold and hot beverages awaiting me, as they were when I visited this month. That was sweet.
The whole day was sweet.
Everyone warned that the school would seem tiny when I returned but given that I’m about the same height as I was in fourth grade, that wasn’t my experience. It was the things outside the school that seem to have gotten smaller–the neighborhood itself, my house, the length of the walk from home to school.
The teachers are all new. And lovely and welcoming and sweet. Some of them knew my kindergarten teacher, who was brand spanking new when I attended kindergarten. Ours was her first class. I hope regards are being sent, as I remember her so clearly and so fondly. In fact, I believe this picture was taken in our classroom. (Kindergarten is the only classroom about which I’m uncertain. I visited most of the others.)
The kids, too, are new.
But there’s something universal–familiar, lovely and sweet–about a classroom full of kindergarten students. I’m so glad HarperCollins helped me adopt my old school. Visiting and remembering: the perfect way to end a year.
I’ll be back to post links to an article in NEW YORK TEACHER and on the pageturn blog, but will be taking a holiday break from new posts until the new year.
See you then.