First Day of School Lessons

“One day I put my arm in my coat and out came my mother’s hand.” — Jean Harris

No true statement was ever made than that of ex –Madeira Headmistress, Jean Harris, when talking about the surprising things we do that remind of us our mothers.

Today was Carter’s first day of junior year at Durham Academy. The great thing about being a junior is you know your way around, are acquainted with plenty of people and are comfortable with how the first day is going to go. After school she gave me the download on the happenings of her day; all the teachers she was excited about, who was in her classes and the games that take place on the first day.

Once she finished with the good things she turned to the thing that annoyed her, thankfully it was small. “At break I went into the store to get a bottle of water,” she told me. “When I came out there was a group of tiny freshmen boys who were just standing at the pinch point by the TV screens blocking all traffic.” I could feel exactly what she was going to say before she said it. “So with flight attendant like motions I said in my regular loud voice, ‘Just keep moving’ as I waved my arms in unison in a forward direction. A group of sophomores who were sitting on the sidelines just started laughing as the freshman finally moved on.”

Carter told me how some of her friends were horrified when she retold the story to them. “But Mom, how else are they going to learn?” The apple does not fall from the tree, and I told her the following story:

Years ago while I was working in London my sister and I had to go food shopping at Selfridges on a Saturday. That is never a good thing, but this particular Saturday the store was more crowded than ever. In perfect old building design imperfection there was only one single person wide down escalator to the basement where the food hall is with a long queue snaking through the first floor.

Slowly we made it to almost our turn, but the woman in front of us was paralyzed to get on the escalator. Her foot hovered over the moving steps as they came and went with no nerve to put her foot down. At this point I had had enough so in my strong, Carter-like voice I said, “GO.” She did.

My sister was furious with me. How could I have been so rude? I considered it rude of the woman in front of me to keep the giant line held up so long and I was just doing a public service, even if the execution of it was a little course.

I pray the poor Freshman who are probably scared to death to begin with are not scared for life, but I am sure the upper classmen are appreciative of Carter’s instructive tone. It certainly was my hand coming out of her sleeve today.