Walking to School -- Pleasant memories of a time gone by

Perhaps we had exceptionally good weather in 1968. For I have only happy, pleasant memories of walking to and from kindergarten with my best friend, Barbie. 1969 proved to be a very different year in regards to the weather, at least to this six year old child. We, my three older sisters and one older brother and I, (I had graduated to first grade and attended with the ‘older kids’ now) would walk to school in the rain, in the snow and of course, in the sleet.

It was approximately a mile walk along a rather busy street. We were safe on the sidewalk, and I am sure I was always trailing behind the older kids. We would leave the house in the rain, while motorists who had left home much earlier rushed to their jobs on those cold and dreary mornings. Those motorists, safe and dry in their cars, would drive by the group of 5 children trudging to school, both parties unaware of the potholes that plagued the Hartford avenues at that time. Until, of course, the fateful moment when all three came together, splashing us to kingdom come. We were completely soaked. We arrived to school tardy, wet, and cold.

Walking to school was as regular as eating--you did it, your siblings did it, your parents had done it, their parents before them had done it. In order to get to school, you had to walk. Bad weather or good, you still had to be there or face the principal. You didn’t complain about it, you just did it.

Of course, along with the bad weather there was the glorious. There is awesome beauty in seeing the first snowflake begin to fall, witnessing spring flowers on the way home that were not there on the way to school, and seeing the leaves change color and fall to the ground.

There was more to “walking to school” than the weather. It was the independence of the whole thing. It took 20 minutes on a good day, 30 in bad, 12 minutes if you took your bike, add an extra 2 or 3 if you had to carry an instrument or school project. You were responsible for getting to school on time.

There was also the variable of the route. Generally, we traveled down Irving to Curve, to Exchange St. and over the tracks to behind the Police Station. But if you were running late, you could travel down Daniels St., to the tracks, following the tracks to the bridge, and climbing up the embankment to Exchange St. That route might save a minute or two, but parents, generally, if they knew about it, warned against it.

The reality was that you alone were responsible for the whole thing: the route, the schedule, the time, the belongings.

Our children are home schooled. We live in a completely different geographic area than where my husband and I grew up. It doesn’t rain very often, and it never rains for a full day. So even walking to school would not give our children the weather conditions we had to endure back then. I do not even know if societal conditions today allow schoolchildren the level of freedom and responsibility we had then.

I would not give up homeschooling, for it does have hundreds of other benefits. But if I could provide one aspect of schooling that homeschooling cannot provide, it would be the daily ritual of the “walk to school” that existed between 1968 - 1981, in New England.