As research for a script, the director, and two producers, and I (being the writer) decided to re-live being a third grader or at least sit in some classes in order to re-capture the essence of that age and time in our lives. This isn't something cultural to do around LA, but it was something I wouldn't ordinarily do, and a mini journey others might want to embark upon, so I thought why not document it in my favorite way possible - the written word.
I had e-mailed my former Principal, and he welcomed this with open arms. Upon arrival, I was greeted as though I were already a famous writer. A window into the world I so long for. I shook hands with many people, was introduced as writing a "script that was selected" and even had "candid" photographs (and posed ones too) taken of me for the school flier. It was everything I didn't expect and it was pretty damn gratifying.
It's ironic because, my story, (at the time, because it has changed, since) was about a little girl who doesn't have much of a real family of her own, but finds kinship and love in her classmates and teacher. And here I was, 13 years later, feeling like I had my own family in this small, private school. They were giving me the appreciation, encouragement, and sense of pride, I'd always wanted...from a father.
I sat at a small table, in a tiny chair, behind a large globe with my three partners. We observed the students as they read out loud from a mystery novel, made presentations, etc. They were very well behaved and had such long attention spans. The teacher spoke to them with much enthusiasm and interest. At recess, I spoke to her about awareness. Do the teachers know about the students' family lives? Do they have compassion and sensitivity on Mother's and Father's day and with assignments such as a Family Tree? She said they do have more awareness now, it being 2012, but mostly because this was a small school. But, she also said, that only one student in the entire class, was a child of divorce. No wonder I felt isolated in the 90s, when the numbers were even smaller.
After recess we went with the kids to PE. The students were adorable and friendly. Two boys, whose parents were in the industry, came up to us and shook our hands and told us about their parents and how they wanted to work on or be in movies, too. They were already trained.
In the gym, my coach from elementary school still remembered me. It made my heart melt a little. And I remembered the time when I was on the "bad" volleyball team, but I got 6 serves over in a row. It was pretty much my claim to fame...at least that day. And yes, the serves were underhand...
During PE, the coaches handed out awards, since it was the end of the school year. They preached about sportsmanship and being proud of one's self for any award. Kids were so supportive of one another. They seemed genuinely excited for those who won first, second, and third place. No one seemed disappointed or sad that they got a less exciting or prestigious award. It made me disheartened that at my age and in my school, the competitive streak takes over and many can't be happy for others (though sometimes people will pretend to be happy).
After PE, the students had lunch, which was pretty much the way I remembered it to be. Girls ran away from yellow jackets that got too close to their food. Kids traded lunch items. Boys talked about sports and girls talked about classes, fashion, family life, etc. It was nice to know that some things don't change.
After lunch we followed the kids to science class where they solved a mystery and learned about fingerprints. I was invited to an all-boys table and I was even allowed to help. It was very sweet. Afterwards they had Computer, where I was also recognized by the teacher. The kids played on new macbook pro laptops - games that involved critical thinking and teamwork.
The day concluded with Carpool. Buses were a new addition to the school - an option that wasn't there when I attended. And I observed a little bit longer, hoping to get more gems for my script.
At the end of the day, I'm not sure what I learned, but it did make me incredibly nostalgic, even more so, than I typically am. I long for those days when the serious things were not so serious. When learning was fun and inclusive and interactive. When play was encouraged. Not to say none of this is true for me today, but everything is covered in a veil of stress and seriousness and urgency. Everything is necessary and must be done. I long for those days when making a burial site for a "rolley polley" was the saddest and most cathartic part of the afternoon. It was nice to experience it again, and at least know that these moments still exist for children and they don't go under appreciated. It was a little gift.
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