The First Day Essay
The First Day
It was an ordinary September morning, I had just gotten my daughter ready for her first day of school. She was wearing her prettiest dress, and I spent nearly an hour braiding her hair. She was so beautiful, I even used the perfume that her father gave me before he left. She’s also wearing her favorite black patent-leather miracles. I’d been waiting for this day for such a long time, she’d be attending Seaton Elementary School, which is a very desired school.
We walk all the way down New Jersey Avenue and across from Mt. Carmel Baptist church is Seaton Elementary school. A very forthcoming woman introduces her self, and asks for my address. I tell her that we live at 1227 New Jersey Avenue, and she shakes her head and says that we’re at the wrong school. I get very irritated, and after discussing with her for a few minutes I realize that she’s solid as a rock, and my daughter doesn’t have a chance at becoming a student at Seaton. I am infuriated, and I grab my daughters hand and rush out the building. When we get out, my daughter asks me if she can’t go to school. I think about it for a second, and reply with my favorite motto ‘One monkey don’t stop no show’.
Unfortunately the only option is for my daughter to attend Walker-Jones Elementary school, which is devastating for me to realize because all my daughters life, I’ve wanted her to attend Seaton. With no other option and much against my will, we walk up New Jersey Avenue to Walker-Jones and walk inside. The school is larger and newer, and my daughter seems to like it, however since it isn’t across from my church I’m not too fond of it. We find our way to a very crowded auditorium, full of children and their parents. I ask a woman if this is where I register my child for school, and she nods. I find a form to fill out and ask the lady for help, since I can’t read or write. She finishes the form for her daughter, and helps me with fill out my form. My daughter stares at the woman’s daughter, and I quickly tell her to quit staring, because she knows better than that. The woman read questions from the form out loud and I answer them. Since I never went to school, and lack reading and writing skills, I always have great trouble spelling words. I’ve brought many different documents that I thought might be necessary for registering my daughter at school. I’ve even brought her baptismal record and a doctor’s letter concerning her chicken pox. I offer the woman 50 cents for her help, and she accepts it without hesitation.