I remember second grade. I had a fresh new little sister. We moved and I started at a new school. All the kids in my class told me our teacher was a witch. Mrs. Blankenship. She was like 6 feet tall with flats on and she had short curly hair and a big nose. I was slightly terrified. At least that’s what memory remembers. I’m sure I had a bike. I remember listening to U Can’t Touch This and Ice Ice Baby cassettes. I remember TGIF.
Addy is always her own person but she’s also starting to get people problems. She wants to do dance. She wants to do cheer. She doesn’t want to be different or kids to look at her funny. She wants to get bangs. These are typical problems of all kids all over. But also it’s 2018 there’s no way anything about second grade was this complex in the 1989.
We had a talk about black girl hair and my hair is different from her hair. I didn’t have the time to explain why my hair is straight and her hair is different. I had to explain shrinkage and almost explained how soft foam rollers do not give the look one so desires when one applies their own pink foam rollers. I know a lot about rollers. And then I grabbed the iPad and we did a search for “black girls with natural hair cut bangs” and questions were answered in 5 minutes.
I also have to remember to not be overbearing (which is easy because I am lazy selective about activities I choose to engage in) but also let her figure out things on her own. I also just don’t want to walk as fast as a 7 year old can ride a bike so just go on down the street on your own and stop and the stop signs. Learn your neighborhood. Learn your way home. But also learn not to talk to strangers and also how to yell if shit gets weird.
I don’t watch enough videos to understand the appeal of constant YouTube but I do understand a good TV binge. I try to stick to a schedule…for the house, not for me. Cause I got shows to binge. I don’t understand the appeal of team activities because I’d rather flip through a magazine but at least for the foreseeable future (September) we’ll be dance parents. I suffer through the hour from 8pm to 9pm where I have foolishly established a “no tv” rule for the school year.
Most of our conversations are me telling her what did or did not exist in the 90s and then she gets frustrated when I try to explain a concept like live radio or her frustrated with me when I sing the wrong words to Kidz Bop songs.
Second grade starts next week. In 2018. I guess this is me getting ready.