The first day of school for a child could very well be a traumatic experience. The child never sees it coming. On day he or she could be playing at home with no worries in life, and then the next day being shipped off to a building filled with a bunch of crazy little kids running around. Now, if that's not a traumatic experience for the fragile mind of a six year old then I don't know what is. I experienced the trauma first hand in the first twenty minutes of class. I was stranded by my family, but I had to keep my cool.
             The first day of school has the biggest impact on the way a person will eventually turn out in the future. If, on your first day, you look "cool" and people see you as cool, then you'll be popular, but if you start off your day by crying and vomiting, then people will avoid you no matter how nice or generous you are to them. Why crying you ask? Crying because this isn't any first day of school, it's the first day of kindergarten. In the end of summer 1992, I got into the small enclosed room of a new and unknown world that my mother called school. On first arrival, I was scared to see children my age with their parents. I lived on a street where most of my neighbors were relatively older people. I had only two friends in my life at that time, my brother and my neighbor, but they were both older then me.
             The drive to school took a lot shorter then I wanted it to take. We arrived promptly at 8:50 a.m., 15 minutes before school even started. My mom always had a thing for being early to everything. My mom, my brother, and I all got out of the car and started toward the door. My legs began to shake. I kept thinking in my head that I wasn't ready to make this plunge. My mom opened the door for my brother and me. My brother, Tony, walked in before me, and I hesitated at the doorway. A nice little push though in the back from my mother kept
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