The almighty
snow day. This great interference in the
march of the school year. A break from
reality and the stresses we faced. I
wasn’t good at doing my homework or caring about long range projects as a
student – from the earliest grades and even up until grad school. But the snow day broke that cycle. Nothing could be collected. Nothing could be assigned. I don’t know how it is for kids in the 21st
century classroom, but teachers did not take advantage of the so-called wasted
time.
I remember stomping down the steps
of whichever suburban Philly rowhome I was living in at the time. Just enough steps to see out the window of the
front door. 4 or 5 steps. I was loud, always accused of being an
elephant coming down the steps. But I still
thought I was doing something secretive.
And the outside world would appear through a tiny window. Sometimes a single window which was normally
too high for my portly body to reach.
But this perch offered me everything.
The view to the answer that would seal my fate for the day. Unbridled cold, icicles, snowball fights and
games? Or a frigid death march to the
children’s coop? I will describe both
things, and I hope that you might have your memories stirred, too, about each
of these days.
