In an otherwise unremarkable September morning, long before I learned to be ashamed of my mother, she takes my hand and we set off down New Jersey Avenue to begin my very first day of school.
The first day of school is always nervewracking for anyone. Will you make friends? Are the teachers kind or mean? How difficult will the work be? All common questions running through the mind of a young child. Yet nothing can compare to the occurrence described in “The First Day” by Edward P. Jones. The scenes are laid out in vivid imagery, allowing readers to almost insert themselves into the story being told. The narrator is recalling her first day of school as a little girl. Her mother is doing everything she can to be sure her daughter looks nice for this very important step toward the rest of her life. After being turned away from Seaton, the school across from their church, they arrive at Walker-Jones. This is where the narrator’s life is changed, although in a very unfortunate way.
“Would you help me with this form? That is, if you don’t mind.”
The woman asks my mother what she means.
“This form. Would you mind helpin me fill it out?”
The woman still seems not to understand.
“I can’t read it. I don’t know how to read or write, and I’m askin you to help me.” My mother looks at me, then looks away. I know almost all of her looks, but this one is brand new to me.
The moment a child starts seeing their mother differently is the moment the relationship is forever changed. The mother/daughter bond is evidently strong, but this one event — and when her mother leaves her to begin her education — has stuck with her through the years.
And even when the teacher turns me toward the classrooms and I hear what must be the singing and talking of all the children in the world, I can still hear my mother’s footsteps above it all.