My Kindergarten Teacher Lied to Me

I’m pretty sure it was kindergarten. Or maybe first grade. I can’t exactly remember the details.

The point is: I was lied to.

In the far recesses of my mind I have a hazy memory of a cute, colorful little poster hanging on the wall of our classroom and showing the year neatly divided  into four seasons. Spring (March- May) was illustrated with bright  happy flowers and perhaps a little watering can. Summer (June- August) was represented by a cheerful sun and a magnificent sandcastle. Autumn (September-November) was blocked in with orange and red leaves and probably a soaring kite. And finally, Winter (December-February) was symbolized by snowflakes and snowmen.

How deceitful.

In Kenya, we have two seasons: wet & dry. But currently, I live in the state of Ohio where the seasons are as follows:

Spring. Consists of the last half of April (if we’re lucky) and May. There is rain and lots of it.

Summer. Takes place from June through August. Blazing hot and humid, an appropriate picture of this season might be of a person dripping with sweat and swatting mosquitoes.

Fall. Occurs between September and the first half of October (if we’re lucky). However, the trees ARE gorgeous.

Winter. Consumes most of the calendar year, consisting of the last half of October through the first half of April. Yes, six bleak months of greyness, bitter cold, and howling winds. The only redemptive quality of winter is the beauty of the snow, and even that loses its ability to console by the time March rolls around.

Because of my great concern for the accuracy of instruction in kindergarten classrooms, behold the Ohio Seasons Chart, copyright 2011. Feel free to reproduce for the benefit of all misguided young people.

-44 days.


One Response to My Kindergarten Teacher Lied to Me

  1. Daniel Morrison says:

    I like, haha! Yeah, after freezing up on Mt. Kenya, I don’t really want to go to college in the north, but enduring a roasting hot car ride down to the base of the mountain made me not want to go to the south, either. Maybe I should just go with my plan as a little kid and go to Moffat.

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