Starting Grade School

At the age of 5, I started the first grade. I loved my teacher and the kids in school; I enjoyed going to school every day. I really had a lot of fun and can remember being happy. As a first grader, don't we all remember having show and tell? One day, a girl brought in her pet Boa Constrictor. The teacher said we all had to touch the snake. Even back then, I had a deep-seeded fear of snakes ~ something I think I inherited from my dad. I told the teacher this and she made me touch the snake anyway. I can remember running out of the classroom crying to use the bathroom to wash my hands. First grade was never as fun after that.

Second grade came along and wasn't nearly as memorable. But it was to be my last year at my elementary school in NE Portland. My family was going to be moving to Gresham and there I would be starting a brand new school and having to learn how to fit in with all new kids... something I was not looking forward to. Nor was I looking forward to moving into a new neighborhood and leaving my friends behind. This was scary for someone who had not yet turned 8.

The Journey Begins...

For me, the journey goes back to my early childhood. I was what one would call a happy and smart child. I was able to start pre-school at the age of 3, kindergarten at the age of 4. This was partly due to there being no cut-off back then due to a child's age and partly due to the fact that I was advanced for my age.

At the age of 5, my brother was born. At first, like any child, I thought, "Wow, he's getting all the attention and no one is paying any attention to me." I didn't really like him so much. I know, right? What was I thinking? He was pretty fun! My mom let me help out with feeding him and all kinds of stuff. Turns out, this little guy wasn't so bad at all. I pretty much liked him - a lot. This baby brother stuff was pretty cool.