When I was in kindergarten, there were two kinds of schoolbags that children carried. They were both yellow in colour, but one was a backpack and the other was a shoulder bag. My mother had a firm belief that a backpack was better for my shoulders since it was evenly balanced. So, when I entered kindergarten, she chose the yellow backpack for me.
At kindergarten, we barely used our schoolbags except when we took out our lunch. But when the day was over, we all sat on the floor with our bags, preparing to go home and listening to our teacher’s final comments of the day.
Often, a few pieces of paper handouts were given to us, and we needed to tuck them into our bag. On such occasions, shoulder bags were more convenient. Most of my classmates had shoulder bags, and they would put the handouts into a pocket of their bag neatly without removing the bag from their shoulder. On the other hand, I always had to take off my backpack and bring it to my front in order to store away my handouts.
I used to envy my friends’ shoulder bags and their layered pockets as I carefully watched my friends put something into their bag or take something out of their bag.
Once at home, I wore my little pochette bag on my shoulder and sat on the floor with a few pieces of scrap paper. Then I would open a pocket of my bag and stick my paper in there, recalling the way my friends stored away their handouts into their schoolbags. Though my pochette bag was much smaller than my friends’ schoolbags, doing the motion still gave me the satisfaction I was looking for.
Even today, a shoulder bag brings me a special sense of excitement. Whenever I go out with my shoulder bag and sit down to arrange its content, I recall the sentiment I felt as I sat on the floor of kindergarten and watched my friends’ schoolbags longingly.