Abbie G.'s Memoir

Kindergarten Injustice

The sound of pencil writing on paper rang through my ears. “So, who was it? Audrey or Steven? Who spit in your hair?” My blonde pigtails now covered in saliva bounced up and down. Tears gained in my blue eyes. “ Ummm…. I, I think, ummmmm think it was Steven.” I stuttered. My mom stood over me continuing to write a note to my kindergarten teacher., Mrs. Hahn. Immediately after, I received a hair wash.
The next day, with my clean, spit-free hair, I left to go to school. I began playing in the toy kitchenette when I realized the note rested in my bag. I placed the plastic cup on the fake stove. “ I will be right back Natalie!” I told my best friend as I trotted off. The shredding noise my backpack zipper produced zipped through my mind. The yellow folder with a yellow school bus sticker opened. Holding the note firm in hand, I skipped to Mrs. Hahn. Grasping the note tight, she skimmed over it, and when she saw Steven’s name, she stood up on her brown, muck colored loafers.
“Steven! Please come here!” Mrs. Hahn announced. Silence filled the classroom. “ Steven, Yesterday on the bus, did you spit in Abigail’s hair?” she questioned. With this, Steven broke down in tears claiming he never completed such thing. Mrs. Hahn glanced from Steven to me to Steven again. “Are you sure you know Steven Spit in your hair?” she questioned. My heart raced.
“I, I think so.” I said shakily.
“I think I know who could solve this.” Mrs. Hahn announced as she stood up. She snatched our wrists, and we obeyed by following her. Leaving her class unattended, she approached Mrs. Agati’s kindergarten classroom. “ Is Audrey here?” she asked. Audrey trotted over to where Mrs. Hahn stood at ease. Those brown squirrel eyes stared up at her.
“ Yes?” she asked innocently. With this Mrs. Hahn spoke to Mrs. Agati again.
“ I should be back with her!” Mrs. Hahn spoke strongly. Mrs. Agati nodded. Now holding everyone’s hands, Mrs. Hahn raced toward the principal. “Dr. Nadeau can figure this out!” she claimed. The wretched door opened. We slowly filed in, one behind the other. As we passed the secretary, tears swelled in my eyes. Sniffles occurred every so often. Third graders watched us in pity.
“ What seems to be the problem here?” Dr. Nadeau wondered warmly. Mrs. Hahn explained the spit mishap. As she recited the dreaded story, my tears turned into raindrops. My sniffles became sobs. “ Don’t cry sweetie! You are only here to get what happened. Speaking of which, who spit in your hair?” Dr. Nadeau asked brightly.
Through these tears in managed to murmur, “ Steven!” As those words flew out of my mouth, Steven’s eyes turned similar to mine, raindrops and sobs.
“No!” Steven cried.
“ I think we all know who did it.” Mrs. Hahn finally spoke. Our eyes fell to Audrey.
“ Abigail, it’s not good to lie!” Dr. Nadeau admonished. My mind raced. Lie? LIE!?! My face turned tomato red. How can they blame me for lying! I knew in my heart that I couldn’t lie. My teacher simply misunderstood me. Lying and thinking mean two different definitions. You shouldn’t confuse them.