I Was A Kindergarten Dropout

Back in 1964 in Texas, kindergarten wasn’t mandatory like it is nowadays and I took advantage of that fact.

I was attending a kindergarten class of about ten kidlets at our local Baptist church and my educational career was progressing as it should. We were learning your basics such as finger painting, the fact that yellow and blue made green, and the importance of not peeing on the wall in the boys’ restroom.

We attended school from 8:30 to noon everyday and although I was a shy kid, everything was going along pretty well.

I had my little group of friends whose names I still remember: Judy Speak, Lyndal Long, Johnny Gustafson, and my best friend, Kyle Kiolbassa.

Then, after a few months, my little world got turned upside down.

I arrived one morning to find all these additional kids there. Apparently, we were having a “mixer” with another kindergarten class -- probably from the local Methodist church and they were definitely not part of my kith. What was worse was that we had been shifted to another (larger) classroom that was totally unfamiliar to me.

I was scared to death.

I remember that the teacher had us play a new game called, “In and Out the Window” where half the kids stood in a circle and the other half had to walk around, weaving in and out among them. Since we had never had enough kids to play this game before, it was totally not part of my skills set.

Then, we were all taken to a local park and I was expected to initiate playtime with all these unfamiliar Methodist kids. I had been supplied with a pack lunch for the day (again, something new) and I just knew that all these strange Methodists were scrutinizing the contents of my little lunch bag. It was just horrible.

So, the next morning there was no way I was going to be subjected to all that unfamiliarity again.

Absolutely. No. Way!

My whining was followed by tears which progressed to uncontrollable shrieking.

Cajoling, threats, and eventual punishment were meted out by the Supreme Court (mom and dad) but I wouldn’t budge. There was no way they were going to get me into that '63 Chevy for another round of Methodists playing "In and Out the Window."

And that’s how I became a kindergarten dropout.