School started in Oak Park on Monday. It makes me think back to my very first day in school. Do you remember yours?
What I remember first is Bradley. Can’t recall his last name after all these years, but he was in my kindergarten class. Preschools were unknown then, so the first day of kindergarten really was our first school day and for many the first day we were separated from mom.
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We were scared. We tried to assume an air of nonchalance, which, as you might imagine, looks pretty ridiculous on a 5-year-old.
Lucky for us there was Bradley. As the teacher led us – tiny, trembling and docile – into the classroom, Bradley became hysterical. He sobbed, he shrieked, he called for his mom. He tried to hide under the drinking fountain.
No soothing teacher talk, the public humiliation of it all nor all the toys spread out before us could loosen Bradley’s grip on the pipes under the drinking fountain.
In comparison to Bradley’s terror, the rest of us seemed almost serene in our acceptance of the first day of school.
Being 5-year-olds, we didn’t understand or feel the pain and fear that gripped Bradley. We were just glad it wasn’t us.
But I understand now. And when a new school year gets underway, I remember Bradley with compassion and affection. I find myself hoping that in later years, Bradley became better at hitting the curve balls life hurls at us all.
Like the rest of us, I assume Bradley grew up and went to work. I wonder, is Bradley hiding under a water cooler in some office fearing the next downsizing, rightsizing or greedsizing will obliterate him?
Probably, he is not. No corporation would let him hide under the water cooler. And any crying he does would have to be on the inside.
But I refuse to believe Bradley ended up like that.
I think Bradley – obviously a sensitive person – became a forest ranger.
It is very quiet where he is, except for the music of the birds.
What Bradley does is rescue lost tourists and alerts the public to forest fires.
And he takes care of animals, tending their wounds and feeding them when food is scarce.
That’s what Bradley does.
And bears eat right out of his hand.
Paul Sassone is a freelance columnist for Pioneer Press.