How difficult it is for some of us to adjust to change. I well remember as a child in sixth grade, moving from the town we lived in to one not 15 minutes away. How sad I was! I was not a very outgoing child. I had a few friends, and I would miss them dearly. I did not make friends easily. I remember going into the basement of our house in Farmingdale, and finding a bit of wall board that was exposed, and writing my name and date on it, and sobbing quietly (for my parents didn’t allow us to cry, irrational, you know. Strange parents, another story!) I was distraught. For a few months I had a respite in that our new house wasn’t finished, so we lived with my grandparents and were driven to the old school each day by my grandfather on his way to work, and then went home with friends after school til he picked us up to bring us back to his house. But then, it happened. The house was finished. We moved in. Wow! Waterfront property, my parents’ dream. How great it would be for all of us, they thought! It was horrible. New school. New teacher. A bunch of strangers. And the teacher picked the most popular girl in my class to show me around…who was decidedly not interested in this Farmingdale hick! It took a long time for me to find new friends. And since I was an A student all the way, and it wasn’t popular to get everything right all the time, it took even longer. Add to that the teacher did spelling pretests. I got them all right every week, so he rewarded me by letting ME give the spelling tests. How to recommend a student to her fellow students! NOT! I buried myself in my school work for a long time…and finally, I found a few friends. Until summer, when suddenly, I had LOTS of friends, and then had to come face to face with the fact that the friends were there because I had waterfront property, and they would leave in the fall, which they did. It was hard.
As adults, we moved with our children when they were in sixth and eighth grades. It was very hard on them, too, and took them a long time to adjust. We moved because we wanted a better school system for them and a better lifestyle. We got that, but it was a struggle all the way.
Yesterday, I read a book, another Catherine Friend book. (Remember “Sheepish”?) I frequently read children’s literature and count among my favorites “My Side of the Mountain” and “The Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler”, both of which, according to one of my sixth grade students years ago, got “Blueberry awards.” (Newbury?) At least I think they did. Anyway, this book, called “Barn Boots Blues” was about a 12 year old girl who moves from the country to the city with her parents, whose lifelong dream it is to move to the country, and who feel that giving the child a country experience, with no cable or tv reception will broaden her life and improve her perspectives. (and I agree with all that, actually…I would love my grandkids to move up here to my farm. I have seen how caring for farm animals brings responsibility and joy into the lives of children and improves their sense of self and of the wonder of creation.)
Anyway, Taylor, the young girl in the book, has a very hard time, with new school rules, with farm chores (all of which involve dealing with poop…on boots, in hair, on clothing…)and the mortifying effects of showing up at school smelling of the farm, with making new friends, with the isolation of living out in the middle of nowhere with no neighborhood kids…and with the fact that the farm and the consequences of the move means that her parents are largely unavailable to her. IN one touching chapter, she has to design a house with another student, a boy (naturally) who is very popular and who had dubbed her “Boots” because she ran for the bus one morning forgetting to change into shoes, mortifying her at school. The boy, typical of 12 year old boys, wants a house with lots of privacy, where one could get away from younger, annoying siblings; Taylor wants a house where the fanily can be together, reflective of her missing her parents and the things they did together in their city house, which are now superceded by working and commuting and by farm chores.
The book put me in mind of my similar experiences, though I think Taylor was a more together kid than I was and had more resources to bring to the problems she had to face. And the passages and chapters where she learns to spin from an old lady and delivers some lambs made my heart sing.
I know a couple of kids I want to recommend this book to. I want their opinions on it. I wonder if they will like it as much as I did. I’m thinking they will, but time will tell. If you know of a middle schoolish, fifth or sixth grader who’d like a good read, you might check out this book.
And now, I just had Catherine Friend’s other memoir type book, “Hit by a farm” I think it is called, put on my Kindle, so when I finish reading “Below Stairs” a memoir of a woman in servive in early 1900′s in England, I’m off for another frolic with a beginning farmer, who apparently had a hard time adjusting to that life, as Taylor did! ‘
Time to do chores. John is out shovelling the snow from last night off the walks. The sheep are waiting for breakfast. Lizzie is out there telling them “five minutes”. So, I’d best get with it.
