Kindergarten Day One

Still musing about Miss Inez Baker, my elementary school principal, who passed away at the age of ninety-three. I dug out my earliest scrapbook from a box that smells like Mentholatum. What would I find to jog my memories of this influential figure in my life? I had already been through my earliest photo album, and was surprised to find no record of Miss Baker in the annual class photos. [I was always in the front row of short kids.]

Miss Baker did have a page in my scrapbook. There is a typed postcard dated September 2, 1960 informing us that I would be due at the morning session of kindergarten on Monday, September 12. It is stamped with Miss Baker's signature, and the name of my school, Eastridge. Imagine that! We didn't start school until September 12! My kids have started to school as early as August second. Did they learn more? No way.

There is an undated clipping from the Lincoln Journal with a photo of Miss Baker when she was elected president of the Nebraska State Elemntary School Principals Association. It is pasted in next to a Huckleberry Hound Happy Birthday napkin pierced with three animal cake decorations most likely from my sixth birthday. Turn the page to see my first corsage from a Dad-Daughter banquet at church all dried, pressed, and wrapped in Saran Wrap. (Neapolitan ice cream was served.)

Miss Baker was VERY OLD when I started kindergarten, forty-seven. Younger than I am now! She seemed to be carved of stone in a wise and benevolent way, like the statue inside the Lincoln Memorial in D.C. She seemed very tall and aloof, and I associated her with the Greek goddess Athena. To a small student, she seemed to have all the answers, in the way that a grown-up should. I was very disappointed to eventually become a grown-up myself and not have all the answers, to not feel the clarity of thought and action Miss Baker modeled.

When Miss Baker stood in the school foyer as students were arriving or dismissing, I never remember kids running up to hug her. I always had the sense that kids tried to be their Very Best Selves when they walked past her.

Because our birthdays were just a day apart, I shared a special bond with Miss Baker. I eventually learned that she had a lively sense of curiosity and humor. The statue became more human as I grew up. I do still try to be my Very Best Self whenever I think of her. When you consider the number of children who passed through the doors of Eastridge Elementary between 1955 and 1976, that is a lot of individuals striving to be the person Miss Baker believed they could be. What a wonderful gift she gave us!