When I walked into my subbing job on Thursday, I spied something I had not seem in many years. I eagerly ran over and stretched out my arms to embrace it. My students got a good chuckle at my strange antics.
It would be a bit of a stretch to say that this “something” and I were on friendly terms many moons ago, although we did spend quite a bit of time together. We certainly did battle a few times, as I attempted to diagram sentences or work out equations without numbers. My skin crawled as it made horrible squeaky noises unexpectedly.
And yet, much of my childhood was spent around this “something.” Enough time, in fact, that my heart warmed at the sight of it.
I couldn’t help myself. I had to claim it as mine, if only for a few hours.
Yes, my friends, the “something” was actually a chalkboard.
What fun it used to be to get to wash down the chalkboard and clap the erasers together to free them from the chalk dust that amassed on them each week. I even remember the four or five wired chalk holder the teachers used to draw straight lines across the board. These lines were used to torture us as we wrote in cursive on the board.
I used to have my own big chalkboard at home. It was the kind you could write on both sides. It was mounted on a stand with enough room to flip over. My sister and I spent hours, each of us on opposite sides, drawing surprises for the other or playing hangman.
I love how seemingly simple objects can evoke warm memories.
Filed under: This-n-That | Tagged: childhood, teaching | Leave a comment »
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