Arrival in Middlebury

It's official. I'm here.
After almost two weeks of moving, traveling, visiting, and transitioning from West Coast to East Coast, I arrived in Middlebury today for good. There are 14 Kindergartners waiting for me to show up next Wednesday morning to be their student teacher this fall and I have a week left to prepare / enjoy my last days of summer vacation.
Oh, I'm ready, though. After a summer of 4- and 5-year-old half-day camps, I'm ready for the depth and challenge of a full-day classroom (?? - still not sure of exact school hours). I've been out of touch with American public schools for about three years, so it's high time I inform myself once again and gather up some more kernels of experience.
Hmm ... Kindergarten. Who remembers their first day? I don't (though I'm sure my mother has an epic to tell about it). I do remember my teacher, though -- Mrs. McKenna -- and have a vague picture in my mind still, of what the classroom looked like. Interestingly enough, I don't remember much of any instruction that took place, only the special day when we made green eggs and ham in honor of the famed Dr. Suess children's book.
What I remember most clearly from this age, though, are the bus rides. On the bus that picked me up in the morning, Kindergartners had to sit in the first three rows, to be closer to the bus driver. At some point, though, I made friends with some 6th graders (I don't remember how) and I got to sit in the back of the bus for a while. That was a very big deal. At lunch, I took a bus from Mrs. McKenna's class (half-day) to my former pre-school, which offered a PM Kindergarten program. That bus was much smaller, a half-size, and I remember having a very friendly bus driver, though the name and face elude me.
No, I don't remember much else more than anyone else would. But somehow, my memory of that age in general is one of sunshine. The pictures of the people, the places, and the journeys are all basked in a gentle yellow haze, like old faded color pictures. I was a very happy kid, which probably explains why I don't remember a whole lot from that time of my life, but still feel very connected to who I was then.
I've worked enough with kids to know that they are not little adults. Quite the opposite: adults are big kids. If this is true - and it is when I look at the world through my eyes - then I am most definitely a big Kindergartner. This might well be why I am so drawn to this age: I have never ceased to wonder and ask why ... to enjoy a daily rhythm of song, story, work, and play ... to experience the world around me with the very best tools I own: my five senses ... and to wear my heart on my sleeve, or rather, on my tongue.
As the school year begins, I hope you're not having bad dreams about unexpected tests and nonexistent classroom #123. If you do, remember the child inside of you. They know the way, because they know who they are.