In Wien ist heute wieder Schulbeginn, man merkt es schon morgens, an allen Ecken stehen besorgt blickende Eltern und noch besorgter wirkende VolksschülerInnen und betrachten beunruhigt den dichter gewordenen Verkehr. Man wird nicht mal erkannt, geschweige denn gegrüßt, alle sind angespannt, verbissen, schauen nur die Ampel an und dann den Kran darüber, ob womöglich was herunterfällt. Es ist laut und die Kinder glauben es wirklich, dass jetzt “der Ernst des Lebens” beginnt (was auch immer das ist, aber davon vielleicht ein andermal).
Jedenfalls gibt es auf den Webseiten der Stadt Wien die löbliche Einrichtung von online “Schulwegplänen“, auf denen bedenkliche Kreuzungen im Umfeld von Volksschulen abgebildet und beschrieben werden. Ausserdem wird ziemlich viel erklärt, wie man sich verhalten sollte, und angesichts dieser Informationen kann ich sagen, dass ich nur mit verdammt viel Glück die Volksschulzeit überlebt hab.
Bezüglich Sicherheit am Schulweg hab ich damals nämlich so ziemlich alles falsch gemacht, was nur geht. Erstens hat mir niemand irgendwas erklärt, ich ging ab dem zweiten Tag alleine hin, war immer zu spät dran, und die Straße überquerte ich nicht, wo es sicher war, sondern wo es schnell ging, und das war manchmal eben mitten drin. Als ich einmal fast überfahren wurde, überahm eine zufällig passierende Oma die pädagogische Rolle (was in Wien ja gerne geschieht: eine Gelegenheit, jemand zu maßregeln, darf nicht ausgelassen werden) und beschimpfte mich, der arme Autofahrer hätte fast einen Unfall gehabt wegen mir. Das war mir dann eine Lehre, ältere Frauen nicht mehr zu mögen.
Aber, die Hauptsache eben: ich habe überlebt. Und das in einer Stadt, in der die Kinder am Schutzweg stehen und den Autofahrern winkend ihre Absicht kundzutun versuchen, während diese stur wegschauen und weiterfahren. Kein Wunder, dass man jetzt die Kinder instruieren muss, die Klügeren zu sein.
Schulbeginn
1. September 2008 · 2 Kommentare
Kategorien: Orte
2 Antworten bis jetzt ↓
1 Jann // 13. September 2008 at 23:38
The first day of school. When I read this I think of my own childhood, and not my daughters’. In the US this was traditionally, and still is in some places, the Wednesday after Labor Day. As Labor day is the first Monday in September, the first day of school would be between September 3rd and September 9th. It was something we looked forward to! Everyone had a new school outfit, for me and my sisters that meant a pretty new dress made by our mother. New shoes, new notebooks, pencils, etc. I and my sister Adrienne (I have four sisters, but Adrienne is the closest in age to me ), attended five shcools in five years, in different parts of the US. But it was always the same. As we never lived in big cities, but rather towns or suburbs, traffic was not a problem as we walked or rode our bikes to school, and there were no big cranes, (such as the one in the vicinity of Wipplingerstrasse near the Schottenring) to cause consternation.
Yes, we looked forward to the first day of school, but after that we pretty much hated it. And although traffic was not a problem, there were other dangers. (to be continued)
2 Jann // 15. September 2008 at 00:27
(Continuation) There were other dangers, as I started to say. In those days, in the US, teachers had much more power over what went on in classrooms than they do now, and, as is human nature, some of them abused it. My second grade teacher once told one of the boys, and this is a direct quote, “If you can’t spell the word ‘ball,’ I’m going to cut off your head and make a bouncing ball out of it.” I was appalled! I still am. After more than fifty years, I am still appalled by this. But this kind of thing went on. Children should not be afraid to go to school for fear of being yelled at or humiliated. Adrienne, when she was seven, or nearly seven, was so afraid of the consequences of coming into class late, that she spent one day hiding in a field instead of going to school. I had left ahead of her , (I did not want to be late either), and in those days it was considered safe for a six or seven year old child to walk a mile or two alone. But I was puzzled when I couldn’t find her at recess time, as we always met up, and then spent our 45 minute recess playing jump rope or hopscotch with the other little girls. When I got home after school, Adrienne was there and at first insisted, to me and our mother, that she had been at school, and had run home ahead of the rest of us. “You weren’t there,” I said, “I couldn’t find you and your friends said you were absent.” She finally admitted she had been in a field we passed on the way to school, a field to nowhere; there was no path through it and no reason anyone would want to walk there, the terrain was uneven and it was full of prickly bushes. So when, at one point she had found herself being approached by a strange man; she had been appropriately alarmed and had run out of the field, crossed a road, and sat down on the front steps of a house, hoping the man would think she lived there. He went away. Tragedy averted? Who knows! But even then she waited until she saw the first kids coming around the corner before she went home. My sister Sally told me one time, thirty years after the fact, that she had once eaten berries she had been told were poisonous, in hopes that she would get sick and thus avoid going to school. The berries didn’t hurt her, but one bite of a poisonous mushroom could have killed her!
As one of my nurse colleagues said, “We all do dumb things when we’re young, but most of us survive them.” Yes, most. And that’s the tragedy.
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