“Mom, I don’t want to go to school.”
I said as my mother was combing my hair to put the while bow on it. It was September 23, the first day of fall
and when school started in Tehran . I was getting ready to go to the Armenian
school to start first grade.
“Gayayee, eat some breakfast,” said
my dad in a tender tone. I never had
appetite in the mornings. My older
brother was starting fourth grade and the youngest brother was not school age
yet.
As we were getting ready I could
hear the Bugs Bunny cartoon on T.V. It was in Farsi. Our home language was Armenian but all the
television programs were in Farsi. I had
quit kindergarten and preschool. But
this time I did not have a choice. My mom had sewn my uniform, navy blue dress
with two pockets and a white collar. In those days most girls wore white bows
on their hair. If they had long hair
they put them in pony tail or two braids with the white ribbons tying the ends.
I wore white socks with lace and black shoes.
My dad had bought us new
briefcases. I was excited because
everybody was telling me, “Wow, you are starting school.” I did not know why that was something
exciting. I wanted to stay home, play
with my dolls, sit on the swing in our backyard, or watch cartoons.
How can this be fun? Spending time
with strange kids was scary. I didn’t
want to sing or dance. The first day of
preschool was devastating. Mom had left
me there hoping I would adjust, but while the other kids were doing a circle dance
to the piano music I sat next to the teacher crying. I did not return to school. The following
year I stayed in kindergarten for one week, but I did not play with the other
kids. During recess and lunch I searched
for my older cousin to talk with her.
On that sunny fall morning of 1963
to start my first grade class the whole family got into the red 1958 Plymouth . The school was ten minutes away. My mom took me to where I was supposed to line
up. Then they took my brother to the
other school where upper-grader attended.
It was a block away.
The janitor brought a big hammer and
hit the bell that looked like an upside down pot. Everybody line up quietly. First grade boys and girls, and fifth and
sixth grade girls only attended that campus.
Even though this was a private Armenian school we followed the rules, boys
and girls were separated after fourth grade.
We all sang the song praising the king of Iran , the Shah. That was our flag salute. After that we prayed in Armenian, and then we
walked to our classrooms.
The
playground teacher was in charge of student’s behavior. Mrs. Hamasik was famous for her
toughness. She yelled from the top of
the stairs where she could see everybody.
We all faced her. I wanted to
turn around and look at my mom but I was so scared to turn my head. We lined up in pairs. I did not know anybody
in the line. As I looked at the kids
with their friends, I wish one of my cousins were there. I wanted my mom to hold my hand. But she had left to take my brother to the
other campus. Tears filled my eyes, but
I was afraid to cry. I saw Mrs. Hamasik
yelling at some kids. I was like a
statue with tears. My stomach was
hurting. I didn’t know what was going
on. The principal came forward on the
second floor patio and said, “Ready, start.”
All the students started to sing.
The school
consisted of an old two story building from 19th century. The classrooms were upstairs. They used the first floor for storage I
climbed the big stairs and entered the corner classroom. There was a window in
the back facing the ally. The window was high with bars, it was like a
prison. We could not see anything.
I sat next to a boy called
Razmik. The wooden desks had a flat part
with a curved dent to hold pens and ink.
The rest of it had a tilt to hold the book in an angle.
The homeroom teacher walked in. We stood up to salute her. She spoke Armenian and smiled. She wrote the letters A and S on the
blackboard. We repeated. Then we started
reciting the Armenian alphabet without recognizing the letters. “Where is my mom?” I thought.
“I don’t know the alphabet. How
come the other kids know how to recite the letters in order?” Finally, the bell rang and we had ten minute
recess. I went to the playground and sat
at a bench. There were tall pine trees
near the gate. There was a tunnel
passage to got to the large gate. I was
thirsty but I did not want to use the long sink with six faucets. Kids could use their cups or use their hands
to hold water to drink.
As he janitor rang the bell again we
lined up to go inside. The language teacher for Farsi walked in. She was Armenian but she had to speak
Farsi. My heart was pounding fast. I was looking around and following what other
kids were doing. When she switched to
Armenian I felt relieved. She wrote the
letters A and B and we practiced writing those letters. To write A in Farsi you just draw a line from
top to bottom like the letter I in English, but then there is a sign on top
like an eyebrow. They call it the
hat. It was hard to draw and make the
hat right on top with the correct curve.
Letter b had a dot under it.
It was time for the second
recess. I was hungry. As I put my hand in the pocket of my uniform
I found some nuts and raisons. My mom had
put them there. I smiled, that was a sweet surprise. She knew I didn’t like eating breakfast but I
would be hungry later on. I was very
skinny and to be healthy I needed to be chubby.
Everybody was worried.
The
third session was math. Miss Hasmik
walked in. She had a beautiful
smile. Miss Hasmik was tall and slender,
with long red hair. She looked like an Italian actress. She asked us to stand up and clap our hands
and chant. She could tell we were not
paying attention and needed to be energized.
I don’t recall the rest but I was so
happy to see my dad. After school we
went to the local stationary store to buy the school supplies. The store was packed with parents and
kids. The smell of the erasers and new
books has stayed with me.
As we arrived home, my brother ran
to the backyard to play. I took off my
uniform and hang it on a chair. Mom
served us rice and stew. After eating
and playing a little bit, I sat down to do my homework. The new notebooks and pencils were so
clean. I had homework in Armenian and
Farsi. Finally, I was a student. Staying home was not an option. I learned a new role.
Saturday,
May 18, 2013
