A deep breath.
The first day is so unknown. Constantly filled with wondering what the kids will be like, whether they will like me and I will like them.
So new, that anything the least bit out of the ordinary may induce panic or tears. New, yet it marks the passage of time. One more year, showing how slow and still how fast each passes by.
It’s picking the perfect outfit and wondering what others will wear. It’s hoping for the impossible – cool weeks of fall to begin in August and last through Thanksgiving.
It’s parents and teachers talking about students, buses, supplies, frustrations. Dancing about the transition from being at home all day to being at school. The dance is a balance of what the parents expect and dream with learning goals and the reality of life.
Memories flood of other first days. Of excitement swishing through with nerves and even a bit of fear. The tears rise for all that has gone before, all that is now and all that will be.
Parents go home and students test their wings. And, sometimes, they fly higher than we could have imagined. And, yes, sometimes they crash. But each year brings a new hope and a new chance.
Inside out – as a student, then a teacher and also a parent. It’s the same every time. And still, so different.