It’s strange what the human mind seems to choose to remember. Which particular conversations are embedded eternally in the wire work, or the moments that are determined to be emotionally significant enough to be imprinted in the drifting neurons, and even the random cursory details of fleeting day to day life that are just as elusive as the electrical impulses which represent them. When I think back on my elementary experience I can remember the generic themes well enough, the recesses, cafeteria cliques, the thrill of going on a field trip, etc. But recently I have had one particular reoccurring memory pressing its way to the front of my mind, and I believe it to be much more profound than I had initially thought.
It was a rainy day in late March, which meant every kid’s worst nightmare; indoor recess. Those dull 30 minute periods of monotonous board games, passionate political discussions over the popularity of SpongeBob vs. Pokémon, and the overlapping gossip about how “Jessica likes like Tyler.” Seeing as I was a fourth grader, practically a man, and with …show more content…
Looking at that calendar and studying the plethora of those detestable squares I was almost brought to tears. “44 more days?” I thought to myself, “God please kill me, I’ll never escape this insufferable ‘H-E- Double Hockey Stick’ that is the fourth grade.” That ambiguous prospect that has been the subject of every child’s dream since the onset of humanity, summer break, was but a distant shimmer of hope, miles down the long, desperate dark tunnel which is public education. For all practical purposes it was nearly nonexistent, unreachable, an allusion designed to keep squirmy children motivated through their cursive practices. “Summer will never come,” I told