Kindergarten Twang

When our family moved into our new house, it must have been late in the summer. The reason I think that is because the newness of the house was secondary to the fact that I was going to start school soon. Kindergarten was fast approaching and I couldn't have been more excited if I had won a lifetime supply of Hot Wheels. Well, maybe just as excited. In any case, the day was close that I would join my fellow townspeople in the ritual of the first day of school. My brother, Jeff, being six years older than I am, was an old hat at the start of school. He knew the supplies to get, the backpack to put it in, the clothes to wear, and what his friends were going to think of it all. I, on the other hand, had no point of reference for any of this stuff. Jeff made some suggestions as to what I should get for supplies and first day duds, but it was really too much for my little brain to comprehend. I was reeling with anticipation of meeting a bunch of other kids. Now, I had been in church before and had been a part of groups of kids having a good time together, but somehow this was different. I was going to see these people everyday, not just three or four times a month. What could I wear that would seem cool like my brother, but not so cool that my teacher would think I was a smaller version of Jeff? What school supplies would I get that would make me different from everyone else, but not so different that I would be the kinder-nerd. Oh, God! And what backpack would contain all of this and say something about me? It was too much! I was too nervous! After careful consideration, I chose my bag. It wasn't a backpack. It was a tote bag. That seemed like the best idea. I went with a theme that was dear to me. Something that I saw in the Sunday newspaper week after week. Something that said it all. It was a bright red tote with a picture of Charlie Brown's beagle Snoopy playing the guitar. Woodstock was perched on the head of the guitar as Snoopy strummed a chord of which the sound was written in bold letters on the top of the bag. The word "TWANG" sprawled out across the bag as if to say, "Hey world, I'm a Duane Eddy and Snoopy fan." (Granted, I had no idea at the time that Duane Eddy was the king of country twang, but in retrospect, you could make that leap.) I was so proud of that bag that I even considered carrying it when mom and I went to the grocery store. Dad told me that my bag was just for school and I wouldn't want to mess it up taking it other places. Luckily for me, Dad was right. The thought of my bag getting dirty in a grubby old grocery store was enough to make me abandon that thought altogether. That, in combination with the fact that my bag kind of looked like a big purse, saved my family the embarrassment of telling everyone they knew that it was my school tote bag and not my big red Snoopy purse. Thanks Pop! I still carried that bag to school everyday. It was my pride and joy. I even loved saying the word that was emblazoned on the side. "TWANG". I would hold my bag up to complete strangers and shout "TWANG". I loved this bag, so naturally everyone else should love it just as much. "TWANG". Since we were in a small town, the elementary grades were at one end of the school and the junior high and high school were at the other end. One big building held grades K through 12. Being that close to so many new people, I thought I needed to know them all. So one early fall day as I was walking into school, I held up my bag to a female upperclassman. She was on the high school basketball team, so I knew who she was. With a smile on my face and the straps tight in my hand, I shouted "TWANG" as I whipped my bag into the air toward her. She looked at me with a sneer and hissed, "Twang yourself, little kid." That statement stopped me in my tracks. I couldn't believe that someone would be hateful to me and my Snoopy bag. I was hurt that, apparently, not everyone in the world was as twang happy as I was. Thinking back, she may have had a rough morning or was dreading a test that day. What stuck in my head was even though she was tops in my eyes since she could play basketball so well, she dropped quite a few points since she was not nice to me. And at the bottom of my list she would fall and stay until she graduated a couple of years later. I don't know what made me this way, but I can hold a grudge for years and years and years. The proof? I remembered a story about my beautiful red Snoopy bag that didn't bring me as much joy after she made her comment. I didn't like her for that. After that, I didn't "TWANG" at people anymore, but I still knew that school was a magical place of kids, learning, and going to the cafeteria to get milk for snack time. After seeing how older kids acted, I knew I needed to focus on the kids in my class. What a great time we were going to have, no matter what kind of bags we all had.

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