2014 - First Steps into That First Day (by Kwadwo Agyekum)

The weather appeared very nice; it was sunny and cloudy. Combined with a mild breeze and mid 50 degree temperatures, it was a surprising nice day, particularly for a day in the first week of September. I scrutinized my outfit and face several times before leaving my building, making sure my black sweater vest, shoes, shirt, hair, and shirt appeared neat and proper. I took first impressions very seriously. A mix of anxiety and readiness filled my stomach as I swiped my metro card and pushed the turnstile.  Yet, I knew it was time to focus on safely getting on the infamous 4 train that my mom and dad criticize and were wary of. I set my sights on finding my way to Regis as quickly and smoothly as possible, to simply be ready for the first day of high school, the first day of meeting my fellow classmates, and getting a taste, little or outrageous, of what is to come and expect of being a Regian.

The train ride was an unexpected one. I did not expect to see people, who I personally knew, at the train platform. I spotted my acquaintance George at the end of the train platform. We performed a typical Bronx handshake and greeted each other with “Wassup”. We got on the train, and he noticed that I seemed a bit tense and uptight. I told him that today was my first day of high school. His face lit up with a smile that made him look somewhat cheesy. He grabbed my shoulder, and said, “Yeo, you’re gunna be fine, man. Loosen up a bit man. You’ll do well at your school. Heck, you’re making me a bit uptight with your attitude. Calm down.” His words struck me, and suddenly my nervousness subsided. It felt as if I had inhaled a relaxing potion in the train atmosphere. I thanking for his stern words of encouragement and got off the train on 86^th street. I walked up the stairs and got into sort of a dilemma. Four staircases, two on the left and two on the right. I knew both led me outside on 86^th street, but I needed to take the way that led me closer to Regis, that would continue to help me maintain my focus and poise. Left or right? You do have a lifetime for this decision, Kwadwo. Start moving. I feel my weight shifting towards the left so I head left and walk up the stairs quickly, to see if my hunch was right. Thanks to God, it was. I let out a sigh of relief when I recognized certain buildings, and I calmly walked to Regis. Now, every morning when I head to school, I take that left turn, up the stairs, and on my merry way. What a life-aiding decision I made.

As I got closer and closer to the 85^th street tunnel, I began to glance at the sky, look down on the ground, and look forward, a quick succession of actions that stopped once I got to the entrance of the tunnel. John Balletta, a Regis Junior, sticks out his hand, and I shake it out of respect. He recognizes me from my time in REACH; we chat for about fifty seconds, and he tells me where to head to. I thank him, and enter it, a dark abyss that did not startle me one bit.

However, the sight of Regis freshmen did. I blinked several times just to check if my eyesight was alright. Seeing scattered blobs of freshmen circles in different parts of Quad perplexed me. Where I would fit into any of the blobs, I did not know, but I did not dwell on that thought for too long.  “Good morning, man. What’s your name,” said a ginger-looking Regis student, “…Alright, head over to the spot with the label 1E-2.” I walk to the spot and notice freshmen just gazing at me as I look left and right. I managed to see their faces. Signs of fear, anxiety, coolness, and glee were all represented on those respective faces.   I pass through the sea of ambivalent freshmen and get to the 1E-2 spot; a couple of Regis juniors said their hellos and shook my hand. I stood in the middle of a seemingly incomplete circle, but when realizing that there were standing around the guys, I stood into the circle, making it complete. I quietly stood in my spot, observing the Quad and the people in it. After several glances at my watch, I hear that the advisement groups will head up to their respective locations and go through some icebreakers. Yay…

We arrive at the door of room 301 where Mr. Walsh, wearing a nice suit and brimming with class, greeted us and opened the door. We sat in desks, scattered across the room. Mr. Walsh pleads with us to move up and fill up the front row seats. As nervous and cautious freshmen, we did just that in quick fashion. He begins to talk about how intelligent, gifted, and grateful we are to attend this school, as if he was trying to cheer us up and liven up the atmosphere, which he did, sort of. Now for the well-worn, yet surprisingly interesting icebreakers.

Mr. Walsh, with a robust and rousing tone for such an aged man, says, “Okay, now let’s go around the room and tell us your name, where you live, grammar school you attended, and one interesting thing about yourself.” We commenced the activity, starting in a clockwise manner. I sat in the middle, so I was somewhat glad not to go first and look unsure and stunned on the first day. The first person, Jim Tronolone, mumbled his name and rushed the rest of his statements. The group managed to decipher his sentences though. This trend continued for a while, along with a few jokes thrown in by Daniel Berthe.

My turn now. I make eye contact with Mr. Walsh, and as I begin to say my name, I slowly lost eye contact with him and made eye contact to the floor and the different styled shoes. I mumble a bit but begin to speak up.

“Hello Guys. My name is Kwadwo Agyekum. I live in the Bronx, attended St. Philip Neri School, and…”

Mr. Walsh cuts me off, saying, “Well, Kwadwo, did you have a nickname in grammar school?”

“Yeah. My history teacher called me Q because my name was difficult for him to pronounce.”

He follows up my response with, “So, are or were you a pool player, cue?

Dazzled and confused, I responded, “Um… no, Q. As in the letter.”

“Oh, I thought you meant cue! I apologize for that!” A witty remark followed that apology and snickers ensued around the classroom.

Time to tell them something interesting. I told the group, this time making eye contact with at least five of my classmates, that my first name meant “Born on Monday” in Akan. I expected giggles, but received oohs and aahs, and mmhs, as if I had told a breathtaking story. That occurrence made me feel respected and appreciated, two qualities which I believe I may find difficult at Regis.

The rest of Orientation went well and I think I made a good impression as well as my classmates and the school. After that day, I realized, while in the train car heading home, that I had arrived to a unique place, a place filled with appreciation, curiosity, and openness.