The Start Of 2nd Grade.

The Start Of 2nd Grade. The Start Of A New Life.

First day of second grade. 

October 9th: the school year had already started. I was coming in as a stranger from a different country. Not only was I the new kid, but I was starting a month late and I had just moved from India. Despite being born in the states, I lived in Boston for just a year. So everything I had known until second grade was from living in India. Here I was, at Sammamish Montessori in Seattle, WA, starting my first day of second grade. I felt like a foreigner…I mean I was. Hands and legs trembling, I walked in with my bright pink backpack and my hair in two tight braids like it always was. I felt eyes on me. The first day of 2nd grade, the start of my new life. 

School lunches. 

October 9th onwards: Thankfully, I knew one person at this school. A family friend who had moved from India to Seattle at the same time as me. Although we didn’t have the same class schedule we could eat lunch together. I was thankful for that. As we started to talk during lunch, she didn’t have as strong of an Indian accent as me. I talked quietly so people wouldn’t hear how I couldn’t roll my r’s or annunciate my t’s. I had asked my parents to pack me lunchables. I remember that’s what the kids would bring in their lunchboxes. I thought it was cool - I thought that people would make fun of the distinct smell my food had. Those first school lunches, the start of my new life. 

Math Class. 

October 9th onwards: People thought math would be the one subject that felt familiar to me. I don’t know why they thought that. The color of my skin perhaps. Well either way, I knew coming in, math was my worst subject. When I looked at paper the numbers seemed to float and mesh together. It was the same in India. I thought to myself: “2 + 2 equals four in any country?” But math class felt different here. In India, learning math felt stricter. I would copy problems from the board and would try to solve them quickly for accuracy in my notebook. The teacher moved fast, spending no time waiting for me and my slower mind. Here math felt helpful and felt quiet. We would sit on the carpet and play games that helped me wrap my head around the numbers. Secretly, I would always get the answers right. I had more time to think here and I always knew the answer. The hard part was saying them. The teacher would call on me, I could feel my face heat up before I even opened my mouth. It felt like the pressure I had once felt before this life. So even when I knew the answer, my hand stayed down on my lap. Numbers made sense to me now but talking about them just yet didn’t. Those math classes, the start of my new life. 

Afterschool care. 

October 9th onwards: Both my parents worked. I had a babysitter but she couldn’t pick me up right away. So for the better half of second grade I would be taken to the playground where all the afterschool students would go. This concept was new to me. In India, everything was structured so that there was no afterschool. Every student got on the bus and went home. It felt new to me to just go outside and play with other kids while I waited to be picked up. Seems fun right? I don’t know. Something about it gave me anxiety. The second I’d step foot on the playground, I felt all eyes on me again. There were other Indian kids at this school but they had always lived here. I felt their eyes on me too. I still felt so foreign. Now began afterschool care, the start of my new life.