My First Day At School

My First Day At School1

By Iona Collins2

My first day at Primary School was a huge turning point in my life. It was directing me to a long, winding path, filled with different emotions, different people and different everything, really. Although some of the things through out that day are long forgotten, the one’s I remember are imprinted on my brain, clear as anything. 3

When I stepped through that gate I became a school child. And my first memory as that kid was indeed, that brown, wooded gate. But firmly attached to that remembrance was a huge (Or so it seemed at the time) glass door. How many times I pushed at the green plastic and the glass around it I can’t remember, but I know for sure, that day the sight of it filled me with a mixture of dread, fear and exhilaration at what I was to find behind it.4

Once I had taken a couple of steps, my own hand clutched in my mothers, through a small entrance room, filled with plastic toys and dolls, I arrived in a cloakroom. Pegs were nailed to one long bench, which ran along the wall. I ran up and down trying to find my name. And there it was, typed onto a sticky label, with a flower on the side. I hung my bag (Bought weeks before) and my coat upon it, before kissing my Mother goodbye, and running into a large room, with a blue carpet. 5

I don’t remember much after this, except from a large toy dog and a big blue chair. The chair matched the carpet perfectly, it’s black legs almost blended with the specks on the floor. 6

Directly opposite it, say a huge dog, It was larger than life, but that didn’t matter then. We could take it home, about once each month, and every single kid looked forward to that day. We could tease our younger siblings, perhaps even letting them stroke his gingery tan fur. Once they had done this, the would not leave you alone. They would stare into you eyes, just as they had stared into the dogs, and… Scream. “Mum! Mum!” They would say, "Tell Iona to give me the doggy!” And you would run, laughing to you bedroom. 7

Laugher. Defiantly one of the main emotions that day. Oh, how many times did I giggle at a portrait I had drawn of my friend Charlie, or myself, when I had dressed up as a nurse. . And what about the first time I tried to write my name? A single scribble on an empty piece of paper. That piece of paper filled up as the day went on. My name. Written over and over again…8