It began in a quiet midwest suburb of Dayton, Ohio, the birthplace of Orville and Wilbur Wright. West Carrollton, primarly known for it's paper mill, was a small, safe community where children walked to school everyday, participated in recreational sports teams, played or swam at the infamous Wilson Park, visited the public library each week for a new stash of books (because it was fun to leisurely read), and had their birthday parties at Pizza Hut.
Although nothing special in the grand scheme of things, these were my childhood romping grounds. It was where I learned haphazardly to ride a bicycle without training wheels, caught salamanders in the creek behind my house, and roamed each and every neighborhood adjacent to my street, with my own personal clan of friends. My parents were never too strict when it came to letting me venture off on my own, and I would set my own limitations on what I thought I was capable of doing. Never was there the present day worries of sexual predators kidnapping in a town such as West Carrollton, it seemed to be simply unheard of, from what I was aware.
Yes, these were the simplistic days. What mattered most to me in the first few years of my life consisted of Gumby and Pokey, Sesame Street, my little Ponies, and Treasure Trolls. Then there were the influences of my brother, which ranged from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to race cars. I've always had an affinity for being the tomboy: I'd rather run around sucking up supernatural lives being a Ghostbuster rather than sit and have a tea party with Goldilocks. Nevertheless, I still had my pink pom-pom, Barbie Doll moments.
Seeing as many childhood memories simply come to an individual out of the blue at times and it is difficult to chronicle them all at a given moment, (lest anyone has the patience to read about them all) here are a few good moments throughout my elementary grades I'd like to share.
Preschool: I was Michaelangelo for Halloween. My mother having made the costume, I adorned the shell that was on the back of the widely circulated Little Tykes turtle sandbox. Being quite larger than myself, it was suffocating and practically consumed me. When asked what I wanted to do in the future, I simply stated, "I want to clean and take care of mommy's house." because I was so severely attached to her.
Kindergarten: Was when I first showcased my artistic achievements to a public audience. During any free time, I could be found making my own "pop-up" books and miscellanous crafts and masterpieces. After having drawn a fire truck with a couple lines in the back of it indicating movement, my teacher flipped a shit and in her state of shock and amazement, gushed to my parents how creative I was.
First Grade: Oh, what a year. I had a bully, and my first crush. Bully would chase me on playground, crush would rescue me. Bully broke my arm at the skating rink, crush signed my hot pink cast with a heart. Bully ripped the synthetic hair out of my trolls, crush bought me a plastic kiddie watch for Christmas. I would laugh at crushes underwear, and we'd get in trouble talking during tests. I loved him. He disappeared on the last day of school and I never saw him again. Figures.
Second Grade: I had the best teacher in the history of teaching, Mr. Miller. A man well known for his devotion to the Cincinnati Bengals, his reddish brown slicked back hair and freckles made all of us little girls giggle; he had our complete attention. A day I will never forget was when Miller ripped his pants and had to leave to get a new pair. The class seemed to laugh for days; we refused to lay the incident to rest. Explaining pronouns one day, he accidentally said "she" and "it" together, very fast. He flushed, apologizing profusely, and yet again our class roared with laughter. My best friend Stacy Corbitt continued the trend of breaking limbs when midway into the year, she broke her entire right arm after a fateful monkey bar incident.
Third Grade: She blinded us with science! Mrs. Haas definitely took an experimental approach to teaching, making each and every hands on experience better than the next. By the years end, we had created soda bottle tornados, played with earth worms, ate pomegranate seeds for the first time, as well as various others. Outside of school, I had travelled to Disney, stayed in a five class hotel with a Mickey phone while visiting MGM and rode the Tower of Terror at nauseum. This was also when I loved my favorite movie ever, The Lion King, and owned every piece of memorabilia I could find/muster out of my allowance, birthday, and holidays.
Fourth Grade: Mrs. Jenks is the reason why I came to love reading so much. She read my class the epic stories one could never forget, such as the Indian in the Cupboard series, Serendipity books, or better yet, the Mouse on the Motorcycle. This was a year of firsts for me in a public audience setting: I was in the Spelling Bee, and in my first school play, Scaredy Cat. Unfortunately, both were rather flustering. In the Spelling Bee, I lost after the first round thanks to the uncertainty of whether "roommate" had one or two m's, and my our first performance of Scaredy Cat began with my brother's best friend whistling and shouting from the audience, "Yeah Karyn!" (I had a crush on him. It was mortifying.) Having mentioned this crush, his name was Carlos Santiago. While my friends made fun of me and chuckled as they sang "Where In the World is Carlos Santiago?" to the tune of the Carmen Sandiego theme song, I ignored their teasing and spent my time hanging out with him and my brother, playing hockey and wrestling in our basement. My free time was also spent doing activities with my Girl Scout Troop, which consisted of some of my closest friends, Julie, Christine, and Tessa. I also had the amazing experience of going to New Mexico with my family; visiting a town enclosed in snow capped mountains in Colorado and sprawling my limbs out at the monument which adjoined the four corners of Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, and Colorado.
Fifth Grade: Detesting dresses, skirts, and the color pink, I traded in the girly girl way of life for baggy t-shirts and stretchy pants, the kind with the straps that go around your foot hidden by your shoe. My tomboy traits consisted of watching Space Ghost Coast to Coast with my equally tomboy-esque best friend, Stacy, whom I also spent time with drawing cartoons about aliens and bugs and/or singing the "Smokey says" song into our Yak Paks. Halfway into the year, I recieved a shocking statement from my dad that rocked my young egotistical world: I was moving to Terre Haute, Indiana and no longer attending Harry Russell Elementary in West Carrollton, with the only friends I knew.
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