My original due date was October 31, 1986. ______ days apart from my uncle Steve's. I was a high-risk pregnancy, born almost a full month pre-mature, by emergency c-section on October 2nd. Weighing in at ___.___oz.
Before I had even started Kindergarten my I.Q test had identified me as "gifted". Whatever that's supposed to mean. The book stuff was always easy for me, but the social aspect was the only thing I really enjoyed. At some point I think we all battle with the whole "Why do I really need to know this stuff?" As we age, we start to pay more attention and notice how these older systems, and ways of teaching, are just not ideal for everyone.
I went to preschool at the University of North Florida (UNF) where I learned how to tumble, swim, and also how to bowl. I remember getting in big trouble for biting this older kid that kept hoggin' the tricycles. I later attended Windy Hill Elementary from Kindergarten through 3rd grade, and to this day still remember every teacher's name. Kindergarten was Mrs. Turner and she was the sweetest black woman I have ever met. Let's be honest. Anyone that can put up with that many 5-year-olds, from the hood, and still be sweet as she was. Deserves a whole lot more than just a teacher's salary. She wore this musk perfume that I can still smell today. That's where I learned how to tie my shoes.
For first and second grade I was part of this new program called the "child development program" that they were testing. Which basically prepared us for class switching on a daily basis, and learning from multiple teachers. For first grade, it was Mrs. Smith and I can still spell bicycle so she did well. Mrs. Cuthbertson was my second-grade teacher and she's the one that taught me how to throw down on some math. Math and science I really enjoyed.
Now being that I was "gifted". Once a week myself and all the other advanced children. Went to another elementary school, Holiday Hill, about 15 minutes down the road. I don't remember her name but I do remember playing a lot of Oregon Trail, lots of cool tests and mind games, and recess of course. The best part was being able to get out of my regular school and change it up once a week. I loved field trips and momma dukes was always the dopest chaperone. Everything else about school was boring to me. Except for the girls of course. They always caught my attention.
Third-grade was when shit got real. My rebellious side came out and Mrs. Griffin was her name. Horrid halitosis breath and we were exact opposites as far as teacher-student compatibility. The 5 years prior she was teaching the ESE kids and I was flying light speed. I don't remember exactly what she said but she said something very insulting and directed it towards me. I remember standing up in the middle of the class and saying "You know what Mrs. Griffin?" I didn't say what goes along with this particular salute, but I flipped her a nice 8-year-old middle finger. A strong one. The whole third-grade class gasped in shock. I don't think this was the smartest thing for her to ask me, but she then asked "Do you have anything else to say Mr. Kendal?" So I stood right back up and said "Yea! Heres another one!" and flipped another one and walked right out.
After a brief suspension. I returned to school and from that point on I just couldn't stay out of trouble. I was suspended three more times that same year. Once for fighting on the playground over a game of football, once over a girl, but the one that really sticks out was this one morning right before school at the neighborhood bus stop. An older 4th grader was showin' out and thought it would be funny to throw my lunch across the street while I was foot racing on the sidewalk. That was our little thing in the morning. Hit the A&M quicky mart for some candy and a Gatorade and then footrace until the bus came. I was pretty fast for a white boy. Now the problem was that when he tossed my lunch my Hawaiian punch burst, and destroyed momma dukes special sandwich.
I was heated, but I was also smart about it. 😉 Sean was his name and he was 2 years older than me and definitely bigger. So when I got to school I called Pops and told him what happened. He was home on workman's comp disability because of a shoulder injury he suffered at work. All I remember him saying was "Don't even worry about it son. We'll handle it after school." He brought me something else for lunch and when the bus came to a stop. I saw him sitting on the GMC tailgate waiting. I always walked home by myself, so I knew why he was there.
At first, I was a little scared but then I realized it was gonna be a fair fight. I'm no Iron Mike, but I could throw some hands for an 8-year-old. As I stepped off the bus we made eye contact and he simply nodded as to say, "You know what to do." Now Sean always sat in the back. So I dropped my backpack right by the stop sign and waited for him to step off. As soon as he stepped off bus 312. I threw my hands up and went to work. Everyone circled up around us, and all I could think about was that soggy sandwich.
That morning he was a comedian, but now it was nothin but apologies. I caught him with a solid 2 piece and slammed him down in the grass like the Rock. I stopped when he started crying. Then we followed him home just to make sure his parents knew exactly what had happened. Pops explained the scenario to the kid's father and all he said was "I'm sure he probably deserved it." Damn right he did! And that was the last time that anyone ever touched my lunch.
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