Sydney and Friends c. 1946

     In my salad days (as they say), February was the best month of the year.  First of all, in California we celebrated the birthdays of two presidents with holidays from school – Lincoln’s on the 12th and Washington’s on the 22nd.  In between there was Valentine’s Day which was especially fun because there was school, sometimes with a party but always with a chance to distribute and receive Valentines.  And, if all of those reasons weren’t enough, my birthday comes at the very end of February which, praise be, is the shortest of all the months!
     I had been teaching for seven years already when “they” changed the February calendar in 1968.  Suddenly, we were celebrating  “Presidents’ Day” and Washington and Lincoln were  relegated to the ranks of all those other, rather faceless, presidents like Garfield and Polk and Hayes.  February lost some of its luster, at least for me.
     As long as I taught – and I think it is still true – primary teachers still featured Washington and Lincoln in discussions about Presidents’ Day.  We still cut out their silhouettes and talked about their contributions to our nation.  I don’t know that we talked about any of the other great presidents, certainly not any recent ones.  Too early to tell.  Too political.
     Valentine’s Day, too, has changed.  Instead of spending the first two weeks of February designing and cutting and pasting special cards for special friends, the whole concept has become one huge commercial.  I can’t help but think that the thrill of that day is spoiled for kids as well as for us adults.  It’s just not the same.
     As for my birthday… now that I am approaching the three-quarters-of-a-century mark, it, too, has lost a little of the magic.  Mostly, I marvel at how fast February 28th  seems to roll around now and wonder a bit if I should be growing wiser with the years.
     No, February is definitely not the month it used to be.  But then, who is?