Today
As I picked up the Oregonian in the ResLife office today, a little icon in the upper left hand corner on the front page reminded me that today is take your kid to work day.
This time of year always makes me nostalgic and thoughtful of years and days gone by - maybe it's the sun, maybe it's the spring in the air, maybe it's the finishing of another academic year.
But seeing the take your kid to work day icon flashed a million memories through my mind. I remember accompanying my dad to work when I was in elementary school - my parents thought I was too young to join my mom at Aloha; high school would be too much for me. So I took homework and books to read to the City of Portland's Office of Finance and Adminstration, and I would sit at my dad smaller desk and read and do homework and interview him about what he did to write some short paper or do some assignment to cover the precious time I'd missed from school. We'd take the elevator up to the 12th floor in the morning, my dad having the standard morning discussion with his colleagues. Intermittently throughout the day, he'd talk to friends and colleagues who would stop by his office, and I was astounded my father's conversational skills with the men and women who would come to get M&Ms from him. We would go to lunch at Pioneer Place, I would get pizza at Mama Ilardo's - a place I still believe made the best pizza in the world - and then, at the end of the day, we'd walk out underneath Portlandia to catch the 45 Bus home.
By the time I arrived at take your kid to work day in 5th grade, I was deemed old enough to join my mother for a day at Aloha High School. That year, I met Nutz, Dietz, and Little Diez, and the former was wonderfully nice to his teacher's daughter. She had American Lit in E4 that year, during the last two periods of the day. While she worked after the students had left, I wrote a note on the chalkboard thanking her students for being so nice to me. And I would return to Aloha every year, to meet the students I'd hear her talk about throughout the year - Nathan Newman, the theater guy who I adored in "Oklahoma!", "Guys and Dolls," and "Arsenic and Old Lace." I'd meet Nic Costa, and be scared out of my mind to have coffee with him and Barlow, the institution of a teacher, during my freshman year. I'd meet Eric Richardson, the redhead who said good bye to me after American Lit, this time in B4, and was triumphant, although really just humoring a freshman girl, that I'd known his name. My mom would take me to Aloha's prom, and he would ask me to dance, and at the end of the year, he's ask my mom to have me give him a call sometime. She wouldn't let me, but gave him her permission for him to call me. He never did.
We emailed a little at the beginning of sophomore year, and he sent me a rose around Homecoming time with an invitation to dance if I ever came to another Aloha dance. I never did.
My last years of high school, I stopped going to Aloha on take your kid to work day - my mom thought it inappropriate for me to leave school, and I thought it dorky to leave school for take your kid to work day. But I loved it so, so I would just go on days when we didn't have school. My sophomore year I took Jane with me. I still go back there every year, even though I thought when I'd entered college I would stop. But then she had a panel of college freshman - her students who were my age - come back the last day before Winter Break to talk about their first semesters at their various colleges, and I was interested. Then this year, Gen came home with my for Thanksgiving and we stopped by to talk to her AP kids about college.
So I don't really know why I wrote all this - spent all this time reminiscing about days gone by when I should be reading for my english paper that's due tomorrow. Maybe because these are untained memories, safe ones.
"Glueckliche Menschen haben ein schlechtes Gedaechtnis und reiche Erinnerungen." - Thomas Brussig
This time of year always makes me nostalgic and thoughtful of years and days gone by - maybe it's the sun, maybe it's the spring in the air, maybe it's the finishing of another academic year.
But seeing the take your kid to work day icon flashed a million memories through my mind. I remember accompanying my dad to work when I was in elementary school - my parents thought I was too young to join my mom at Aloha; high school would be too much for me. So I took homework and books to read to the City of Portland's Office of Finance and Adminstration, and I would sit at my dad smaller desk and read and do homework and interview him about what he did to write some short paper or do some assignment to cover the precious time I'd missed from school. We'd take the elevator up to the 12th floor in the morning, my dad having the standard morning discussion with his colleagues. Intermittently throughout the day, he'd talk to friends and colleagues who would stop by his office, and I was astounded my father's conversational skills with the men and women who would come to get M&Ms from him. We would go to lunch at Pioneer Place, I would get pizza at Mama Ilardo's - a place I still believe made the best pizza in the world - and then, at the end of the day, we'd walk out underneath Portlandia to catch the 45 Bus home.
By the time I arrived at take your kid to work day in 5th grade, I was deemed old enough to join my mother for a day at Aloha High School. That year, I met Nutz, Dietz, and Little Diez, and the former was wonderfully nice to his teacher's daughter. She had American Lit in E4 that year, during the last two periods of the day. While she worked after the students had left, I wrote a note on the chalkboard thanking her students for being so nice to me. And I would return to Aloha every year, to meet the students I'd hear her talk about throughout the year - Nathan Newman, the theater guy who I adored in "Oklahoma!", "Guys and Dolls," and "Arsenic and Old Lace." I'd meet Nic Costa, and be scared out of my mind to have coffee with him and Barlow, the institution of a teacher, during my freshman year. I'd meet Eric Richardson, the redhead who said good bye to me after American Lit, this time in B4, and was triumphant, although really just humoring a freshman girl, that I'd known his name. My mom would take me to Aloha's prom, and he would ask me to dance, and at the end of the year, he's ask my mom to have me give him a call sometime. She wouldn't let me, but gave him her permission for him to call me. He never did.
We emailed a little at the beginning of sophomore year, and he sent me a rose around Homecoming time with an invitation to dance if I ever came to another Aloha dance. I never did.
My last years of high school, I stopped going to Aloha on take your kid to work day - my mom thought it inappropriate for me to leave school, and I thought it dorky to leave school for take your kid to work day. But I loved it so, so I would just go on days when we didn't have school. My sophomore year I took Jane with me. I still go back there every year, even though I thought when I'd entered college I would stop. But then she had a panel of college freshman - her students who were my age - come back the last day before Winter Break to talk about their first semesters at their various colleges, and I was interested. Then this year, Gen came home with my for Thanksgiving and we stopped by to talk to her AP kids about college.
So I don't really know why I wrote all this - spent all this time reminiscing about days gone by when I should be reading for my english paper that's due tomorrow. Maybe because these are untained memories, safe ones.
"Glueckliche Menschen haben ein schlechtes Gedaechtnis und reiche Erinnerungen." - Thomas Brussig