Education is the passport to the future, for tomorrow belongs to those who prepare for it today.

ECS 100 Stories-They aren’t like me ~ Self Story #2

I am not sure the time but I can see the sun coming through the blinds so it must be almost be morning time. BIZZ, BIZZ, that sounds like mom’s alarm I bet it’s time to get up. I hear slow and unsteady feet coming down the stairs. I roll over quickly and squint my eyes shut pretending to sleep. CREAK she opens my door slowly. Then suddenly I feel a soft shake. I roll over slowly and say, “good morning, momma”. She says, “good morning, hunny can you hurry and get dressed so I can get a first day of school picture”. So, I get out of bed excitedly and start getting ready for my first day of grade 5. I go upstairs and pour myself a bowl of cereal for breakfast, I enjoy the lively first day feels as I eat my Lucky Charms. Before I know it, the bus is in the yard, mom snaps a few quick pictures and we are off to school on the bus.

I can’t help but feel anxious and I’m not sure why. I have been to school, in fact this very same school what feels like thousands of times. I begin to wonder if I will have any new classmates but quickly shoot that idea down since my class has consisted of the same 18 kids since kindergarten. The bus comes to a halt and I look out and realize we are at the school. I gather my things and exit the bus heading for the school.

 Immediately upon entering the school doors I head to my new classroom. As I observe the creative décor and welcome back sign hanging in my new classroom, I look over and see my bus buddy we are the first students here. I quickly realize the teacher has our nametag’s out, so I find my locker. Then I look for my desk while looking for my desk I also scan the nametags looking for any unfamiliar ones that could possible belong to a new student. I see the name “Karen”. “hey, I think we have a new person in the class there’s the name Karen over here”, I yell out to my bus buddy. “one over here too it looks like Bre… Brenz?” he responds. Finally, we both find are seats and the other classmates begin to arrive. The room is buzzing with chatter and I decide to take this time to catch up with my friends. 

RING RING the warning bell rings and now class is about to start. I face my attention to the teacher at the front as do my classmates. SQUEEK, I hear the door open; I quickly turn my head to see. At the door are two new faces, two people I have never seen before. I then realize the new names must belong to these new kids. They aren’t like me though, they aren’t from here. Their skin is different than mine. They don’t look Caucasian like me I wonder what their background is. Why would they want to come to come here if no one here is like them? I can’t imagine how nervous they must be. They quickly find their seats and the teacher starts underway with the regular first day things.

 As the day progresses, I can’t help but wonder about the two new students. Why did they choose Kipling? Do they know each other? Where do they live? Do they have siblings? Before I know it the morning is gone and its lunch time, I quickly eat my sandwich and head out for recess. As I arrive on the playground, I notice a big group of kids, so I go over to see what’s going on. To my surprise at the middle of the circle are my two new classmates Brenz and Karen. Everyone is asking them questions. Like where are you from? How old are you? Are you new? They look overwhelmed. Just like all the other kids I had my own questions, so I began to wiggle my way to the middle. However, the circle is broken up by the mean first grade teacher. She says, “leave these poor new students alone you guys can’t you see you’re a little much for them right now?” Just like that there goes my chance to learn about the new kids. I wonder about their old school? Did they have recess their? My friends and I decide to go to the swings. The rest of lunch break flies by. RING RING its time to go inside.

Within the first 5 minutes of afternoon class I realize it’s not going to be a free for all like the morning. Mr. Parley actually wants to start teaching us on the first day. I can already tell I’m not going to like grade 5. The afternoon drags by, finally the bell rings and its home time. I gather my things and slowly head for the bus. I wonder if the new kids take the bus? Or are they town kids? I get to the bus and plump down in my seat, I am exhausted. Man what a day, grade 5 is serious business.

1 Comment

  1. Brooklyn George

    Hey Amberlee! I love the way you ended your story- it made me laugh! I never had a kid in my class that wasn’t First Nations or white, so I can’t quite relate to this in that way. However, I can relate to the curiosity and questions that come with getting new kids who are of colour in school as we had a family of East Indian children that moved to town in my grade 10 year! There is, in some ways, a misunderstanding of “newcomers” so to say, being that people often think they live such a different life from us when they are back home- something I learned was not true through these kids. I feel like it is nice to have diversity in smaller towns and it is very well needed, although I also wonder why the heck they chose to come to somewhere so small (or how they even found out about Indian Head) haha. Your story portrayed a great example of a time where we first notice or become curious about differences, most specific in skin tone, between ourselves and others- as well as an example of the ways our own colour becomes invisible for us. I really liked your story and don’t feel there is much need for change at all, but if I had to find one thing to change it may be to include something that you found out about them- but if you didn’t find out anything that day then it makes perfect sense 🙂

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