The beginning of the school year has a certain feel linked to many memories – new shoes that still feel a little stiff, carefully chosen lunch bags (Hello Kitty for her, plain brown for him, Vera for me), and anxious anticipation. I’ve been through dozens of first weeks of school as a child, a teacher, and a mother. Invariably there were sleepless nights leading up to those beginnings filled with concerns and questions.
Yesterday was the first day back for the teachers in the school district where I spent my last years of teaching, and I found my thoughts wandering to them all day. What were they doing? Hearing about? How were the classroom setups going? Did the books they ordered arrive in time?
It is no wonder that I’ve had trouble sleeping the past few nights. The rhythms of the school year are a part of me. They are in my bones. They influence my actions just as predictably as the rhythms of nature signal to birds and butterflies that it’s time to start their migration, and magically transform the coats of snowshoe hares from chocolate brown to wintry white.
Always a teacher. It’s in my bones.
I know some of you have been back to school for weeks, but I wish everyone a year filled with success and wondrous experiences.