Back to School

Waiting for the School Bus
1969-70 School Year

Recently, Sue Collins, the editor of two magazines that I write for, asked for a back-to-school memory to share in the August issue. I wrote the following poem which was published this month in both BuckHaven Lifestyle and Perimeter North Lifestyle. I wanted to capture it here on my blog for safe keeping.

The picture above was taken as my siblings and I (on the left) waited for the school bus. That's the dirt road that ran in front of our house, and you can see the school bus coming in the distance. Mr. Jack drove the bus. I remember that he always gave us a little brown paper sack full of fruit, candy, and nuts on the last day of school before Christmas break. Back then, we could call it Christmas break, and bus drivers, the best ones anyway, gave you a goodie bag to kick off the holiday season. I'm guessing this is the 1969-70 school year; I was in 3rd grade. 1969 was the last year before school desegregation in Taylor County. The reason I know the picture was taken prior to desegregation is because we are all waiting for the same bus. Once the county finally complied with the federal desegregation order, my brother rode a different bus. That's because all the boys went to one school, and all the girls went to another. It wasn't until 1978-79, my senior year, that all the boys and girls, black and white, went to the same school. But that's a whole different story for a different day.

Enjoy the poem. Wishing you well.
~Pat

Back to School

Waiting for the school bus on a lonely dirt road.
A crop duster drones from the distant cotton fields.
Sister and brother at my side.

Hair neatly combed, for the moment anyway.
New blue cotton dress, with gingham trim, starched and ironed.
Black and white saddle-oxfords, perfectly polished.
Knee socks.

Red plaid metal lunch box with wax-paper-wrapped sandwich tucked inside.
In my pocket, a dime for a 4-cent milk and a 6-cent ice cream.
A book satchel, a 3-ring binder, and pencils.

Stomach full of butterflies, heart full of hope.
Mama watches from the window.

My first grade picture, in the blue dress and hair no longer neatly combed. 

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