January 1, 2006 - Sunday
With Harry in kindergarten now I've been thinking a lot recently about my own year of kindergarten. It was at a place called "Four Acres" in Carlisle that's long since gone away, in a little converted house with swing set and slide out in the yard. There was an office directly on the left when you walked in and a couple of small classrooms and offices down a short hall to the right. Straight ahead when you walked in there was a wide step down into what was probably once a sunken living room. That was the main class area. My memories of this place are almost certainly a bit hazy and I'm sure if I had the chance to go back there would be some surprises. Although I'd bet most would have to do with the size of things now that I'm more than twice as tall as I was then.

Yet, however good or bad my memories of this place are in literal terms, they are the earliest memories of my life that I can place to a specific time, or year, and place. Sure, I have a few other spotty memories of things that happened early - like a family trips to Canada and needing to go to our grandparents house when my sister was being born - but kindergarten marked the first time I was away from my parents on a regular basis. And more than the memories I have of the place, I have a pretty good sense of what I was thinking about at that age; like the amount of confidence I had, the emergence of friendships, the awareness that boys tended to play with boys and girls with girls although not always and sometimes that was fun too, some of the things that made me nervous, the ability I had to solve problem and think logically, the ability I had to be clever for good and bad, and generally the level of self-awareness I had at that age.

And, of course, Harry is that age now and as I watch him go off to school each morning (I did not ride the bus to Four Acres and it was not a big public kindergarten like Harry's, but I don't think that matters too much) and hear about the things he does at school and the friendships he's forming, it's so easy for me to put myself in his place. He has grown from a baby and toddler for whom all information and knowledge essentially came from his mother and me to a boy with a mind of his own and new sources of influence. Naturally, kindergarten isn't a switch that makes a light bulb go off in that regard, and it surely has been a more gradual curve of improving self-awareness through preschool and so forth. Yet, I know have a frame of reference into what he might now know and think based on my own experience and memories. Of course, he's his own person, but he's also my son and I think there are going to be plenty of similarities, at least in a general way.

I've often said before, half-seriously, going back many years that real life doesn't really start until you have kids old enough to form memories of you and the things you do that they will keep for many years. If that is true, then I think I can say that real life for me has now started.


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