FIRST DAY AT A NEW SCHOOL


The late October sky over Chicago was opaque and gray but the classroom lights of Madison Elementary School shone bravely into the cold morning air. On the second floor Mrs. Evans’ third grade class was working on addition problems when the principal asked her to step out into the hall. With him stood a 9-year old girl with a very serious expression and braids, with her father. To Mrs Evans, the earrings on such a young girl signified “foreign” and sure enough, the principal confirmed that the family had recently arrived from Germany. Karin had some English lessons but was very shy about speaking. It was agreed that she would start school the next day with Mrs. Evans .

I am nervous about going into this huge building full of loud children. In Germany my school was bombed out so my classroom was in a church sacristy and very quiet. I was the teacher’s favorite and often went on errands for her that let me stop off at my house for a snack. Here I have no idea how to even find our new apartment. I see hundreds of screaming kids but not one has a backpack for books like everyone at home wears on their back. At least I am wearing the snowsuit like everybody else. Papi had sent it to me in Germany and no one there had ever seen such an exotic outfit. It had made me "the American" last winter. Now I feel totally lost but at least I look like an American. The principal takes me to yesterday’s classroom. The same teacher smiles and talks a lot. I don’t understand a word but I get the picture… and a desk.

Mrs. Evans is an experienced teacher and the blank expression on this child’s face doesn’t fluster her. She calls to a tall girl in a plaid skirt.
“Mary, this is Karin. She’s new in America and I want you to help her get orientated here. Show her where to leave her boots and clothes and where the girl’s room is and whatever else comes up.

What the heck is this girl Mary trying to tell me? I’ve already taken off the jacket and hung it up. Now she wants me to take off my pants? What is going on here. Oh, I see they’re all taking off the jackets and the pants and wearing regular clothes underneath…and I am only wearing a sweater and underpants! Why didn’t Mami know about this? Oh, this is…
“Nein, No. No.”
They must think I’m a total idiot. Now they are trying to take my pants off for me. Do I have to hit them? Here comes the teacher…okay, I know what you are telling me but
“NO!,”
I’m not taking off these pants. Tomorrow you’ll see I understand. What a day. Being invited ten times to go to the toilet is a bother, too. Why do they think I have to go all the time? And why are they still printing instead of writing longhand. This America is really an upside down place. What a day!