School Days
It’s that time of year again! In some places (like here), the kiddos have been back in the classroom long enough to get into the groove of a new school year. In others, they still have a little more time to work on their summer reading lists before the first day of school arrives.
Either way, I thought it was the perfect time for a back-to-school themed Bookish Memory.
Goodbyes are rough.
Toward the end of my freshman year, my parents decided to move.
It’s fair to say I was devastated. I’d just had a killer year. I was doing great academically . . . but more importantly, I had found my people among other word nerds in the Writers’ Workshop elective that profoundly influenced my writing journey.
What I didn’t understand was that the school district was redrawing lines for the following year, and I wouldn’t have continued at the same school even if we stayed–and besides that, my parents had dreams, too. The property they found allowed the space for those dreams to flourish. Over twenty years later, I can look back with complete respect for their choices . . .
. . . without forgetting just how salty I was about it.
But Mom, what about my summer reading assignment?
I finished the year at my old school, which meant that I received the summer reading list for the rising sophomore class.
Then, my parents bought the property, so we visited my new school and obtained their summer reading list, too.
And out of some awkward teen sense of standing on principle, I fully intended to read the books on both summer reading lists. Not sure what I thought that would accomplish, exactly . . .
| Old School’s List | New School’s List |
| Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury | The Color Purple, Alice Walker |
| The Crucible, Arthur Miller | Their Eyes Were Watching God, Zora Neale Hurston |
| 1984, George Orwell | Cry, The Beloved Country, Alan Paton |
| The Odyssey, Home | Mythology, Edith Hamilton |
As summer fades…
So do stubbornness and flights of fancy. I couldn’t stay in the past, but there came a moment when I had to decide to accept that my life had changed.
Between the two summer reading lists, I completed the one I’d be graded on at my new school.
I read (and loved) Fahrenheit 451 and 1984 that summer. Eventually, I got around to reading The Odyssey (um, in 2015), but that was from a sense of reader-guilt (“I’m a fraud who hasn’t read enough classics!”) and not any lingering pouting over our move.
The Crucible, though? Still languishing at the bottom of an ever-tottering TBR pile.
Thanks for reading! In my next Bookish Memory, I’ll share a moment with my cussin’ kitty. See you then!
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