Chapter 1

I think I was in Kindergarten when I first realized I could float.

Or at least that’s when my almost 6 year old brain realized what I could do and I worked out a name for what it was I realized I was able to do. I remember I almost called it “Jumping” but even at that early age, I quickly just knew what I could do was way more than just that; Jumping. But for simplicity I always affectionally kept thinking of my skill as “Floating.”

Looking back on it all after all these years, I have to admit, it’s been a lot of fun, floating, that is, whenever it struck my fancy. As time went ever onward, I continued to develop my craft and teased the limits of my seemingly singular innate ability.

Although I did quickly learn I could get myself into a lot of trouble when I floated. I actually learned that lesson the first time I actually did it. I smile whenever I think of that first time and how naughty my thoughts had been.

Our Kindergarten classroom was built for little people. You know, 5 and 6 year olds, they’re tiny people. Kid sized miniture desks and like-sized chairs filled the classroom. I remember thinking “How nice!!!” when I’d visited the classroom the first time a week or so before my Formal Schooling began.

Things like the blackboards were installed low toward the ground, within the typical tiny people’s reach. The bathrooms were almost communial. For easy access when necessary and situated pretty much behind the teacher’s desk, there was no restrictive door on the portal to the toilet and sink area. The bathroom had six toilets, three on each side of a central short wall, perhaps about 5 feet high. Each toilet area was partially cordoned off with an “L” shaped enclosure but also without a door.

The lack of privacy never bothered me nor any of the other children in my class. After all, we were children and even the most personal of sanitary attention was often attended to by our parents, siblings or other guardians.

For some reason, I’ve always remembered the central wall and the enclosures of that kindergarten bathroom. They were not made of blue or green metal partition barriers which filled the public bathrooms in most places --- you know that were pretty much like everywhere --- but were a light pastel chocolate color, perhaps an inch or so thick, made of a formidible stone like granite. I also remember the feel of my tiny hand on the smooth coldness of the wall. It always felt as if the wall was just sucking out the heat from my body.

Needless to say, even though it was inviting in its color scheme, the bathroom was not a warm friendly place. No reason to linger. In and out. Go in. Do your business and get out fast.

The first day of class our teacher, Miss Wanger, explained the rules of the classroom and how we all needed to be quiet when she clapped her hands so she could tell us what she had to say. Of course, being tiny people, she queeried if we were toilet trained. I remember as everyone’s hands went up, she smiled, then said, “Good.”

Continuing, she added, pointing, “The bathroom’s right in here and anytime you need to, just go right in and use the toilet. If for some reason, you need any help, just call out and Miss Constance or I will help you.”

Then she asked all of us to get up from our desks and follow her into the bathroom. It was oriented parallel to the wall behind the teacher’s desk with a short dividing wall running down the center of the bathroom. The first set of toilets in their individual stalls were visible at entry and then after passing the central wall, the second set of toilets was likewise visible.

I also remember Miss Wanger cautioning all the boys to never go beyond the central wall. There was no real explination given as to why boys shouldn’t go there other than that was the girl’s side. Just stay out of that area was the unspoken but understood rule for the boys.

As that information about the division between the boys and girls set in to my 6 year old psyche, I wondered why the boys weren’t allowed on the girl’s side. There didn’t seem to be any restriction like that for the girls being on the boy’s side. After all, my brain figured out, the girls had to go though the boy’s side to get to theirs.

I wasn’t the only one to wonder why the rules weren’t the same for the girls as one for the boys. One kid, Stevie Jones wondered out loud, “How come?” The expression on Miss Wanger’s face darkened and I could see he’d violated a cardinal rule: Don’t question the teacher.

Miss Wanger sharply told him and of course all of the boys, “That’s the rule!”. Then realizing that her response was a little to firm, the frown wrinkling her softened and she added, “Because girls need their privacy.”

Now that didn’t make any sense to me and I could see the question same mark go up on all the boys faces while the girls had the exact opposite reaction show on theirs. I sort of wanted an answer to why girls needed more privacy than boys when all we were doing was going to the bathroom. But, I sort of resolved that question myself as I was aware that boys and girls usually had separate bathrooms. So it really did seem natural. Or sort of???

Miss Wanger had finished her introduction to the bathroom and ushered us all back into the classroom. She told us to return to our desks as she and Miss Constance began handing out a large sheet of paper to each of us.

The sheet was laid before me and it had a series of spaced lines on it. The sheets were nothing new to me as we’d used similar ones to practice writing the alphabet and even how to write our names in Pre-School. It was no surprise when Miss Wanger said for us to write our A, B, C’s on the paper.

That task was not difficult because ringing the classroom, above the blackboards were all the letters of the alphabet. I fairly quickly completed that task and smiled to myself as I silently sang the alphabet song to myself while I wrote.