When someone mentions the word “school”, I shudder, because I will always associate that word with a cluster of dull, drab buildings, all enclosed by a high wall with barbed wire or broken shards of glass on top, to discourage errant unwanted visitors from trying to sneak in. That is exactly how my school was. All you could see from the streets was tantalizing bits and pieces, but once you entered the school through the massive iron gates, it was a big U-shaped, boring, blue- grey building housing the various classrooms distributed among its three floors! The classrooms were none too exciting… a square box of a room, painted an unforgettable nondescript shade of white – I think – with all the requisite classroom accessories to hopefully mold us into stellar adults. The rooms were just big enough to hold around 60 eager kids and a frustrated teacher, nothing on the walls except for a clock ticking away, and a calendar to remind us of dreaded exam dates and highly anticipated holidays! And so I plugged along methodically through the various grades and classrooms like all the other kids, and graduated, in pretty decent academic shape to take on the challenges of the real world!
The author is an interior designer by profession and has interests in painting, music, yoga, and gardening. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.