Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Back to school


There's a definite feeling of fall in this morning's air. For the first time since June, I'm wearing my fleece, and I closed a window which was allowing the cold air into this upstairs room where I type. That fall feeling, along with several conversations and observations, reminds me that I'm beginning my fifth year of not returning to school.


My sisters are, no doubt, scurrying faster than usual around their farm this morning because today marks the first official day back for teachers. I don't miss the huge knot in my stomach that began forming every year, long about July 31, as I thought ahead toward another school year. That knot would usually tighten on a rather continuous basis until about three weeks after the opening of school.

By that time, I knew names, and I knew most of the games that kids would be playing in my classroom for the rest of the year. We'd usually had our first major test, several grades were in the book, and we'd settled in for the long haul until June. I could also start being myself after a few weeks of being "the bitch." A famous line that has stayed with me was uttered back in the early '70s: I thought she was a pretty nice lady, but she's nothing but an old bitch.

Whoever went home after an opening day and told their mother that made my day. I wanted the kids to think that of me as every school year began. If they did, then it was guaranteed that a good time would be had by all. It meant that my classroom was under control, and that the kids would generally be pleasantly surprised as the school year wore on and they discovered that "she didn't seem so mean as she did that first week." The instructors had suggested that grinch policy in the ed. classes----don't smile before Christmas.

Well, I smiled long before then, but the "bitch" role served me fairly well each September for more than 30 years. Granted, there were cases where that assumed role or any amount of friendliness or understanding would not work. Some kids were hard core, and factors far beyond my classroom had molded them that way permanently. I'm glad to say that I can count on one hand the number of kids who fit in that category.

Instead, I was blessed by having students, similar to one who showed up at my house yesterday, bearing gifts from China. Bryant Jones (SHS Class of 2001 and University of Vermont grad) spent the last year teaching English to hundreds of middle school students in Southern China. Along with the gifts, including a Chinese calendar, he brought his sister MacKenzie. She's going into the seventh grade when this new school year starts, and her older brother will be leaving next week for graduate work at George Washington University.

The few minutes I spent with Bryant and MacKenzie made me yearn for the days of that knotty stomach and that frown where I'd greet a whole new crop and issue "the rules." I do not miss school politics. I do not miss the 24-7 responsibility of constantly preparing and thinking ahead about what I'm going to do the very next second. I do not miss the piles and piles of paperwork which grew like an early spring lawn. I don't miss the knotty stomach or the Sunday afternoon grouch hours of facing a new week.

I do, however, sorely miss the connections I established with kids. In those connections, I learned about myself and learned so much about human nature in general. They've also allowed me to learn much about the world outside of Sandpoint, Idaho, through the eyes of those young people. In most cases, the connections extended----and continue to extend---far beyond the classroom. These students who thought they'd met "the bitch of the century" on those early September days, endowed this ol' gal with so much more of value than she ever passed along to them.

It was a good run for 33 years. It continues to be a good run every time I enjoy a few moments with my former students like yesterday's brief visit with Bryant and his sister. And, so with this time of the year, I can't help but get that feeling of excitement (minus the knotty stomach and the dread of too much work) about another new school year and the lifelong connections that other teachers will be enjoying in their own classrooms, starting next Tuesday.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I loved the "knot in the stomach" post. I retired from teaching history 4 years ago. In the first two years September brought the "teacher dreams." Almost all teachers get them in some form. Mine were always nightmares about a class that I couldn't control. I occasionally and randomly have that dream to this day. I miss the sense of community that knowing everyone in my town between the ages of 15 and 40, but moving here has had one wonderful advantage. I can go to Safeway braless and be 99.9% sure that I will not run into a former student. Retirement and moving 1000 miles can be freeing in ways other than the obvious.