This year is the first year in my six years of teaching that I have the same room from the year before; it is also the first year that I will not have any new class preps. I wish I could say that these two facts alone eased the anxiety of a new class, but as a senior English teacher, I feel such an intense pressure to increase my students' reading and writing abilities before they embark on that small journey called life {wherever it takes them: college, military, employment or a place I call WTF-land} that even the familiarity of my room and my lesson plans could not make that pressure go away. I find that nearly all of my thoughts go towards competing with the likes of a social media world that has captured {nearly} all of their hearts while working within the confines of a classroom with very limited technology; however, the beauty of a new school year exists in the hope of a new beginning. The frustrations of last year are shed and, in their place, optimism emerges. Back to school means my greatest dreams for these kids are not yet dashed by their over-interests in less lucrative ambitions, acceptance of apathy or premature beginnings of other sorts. They come on the first day with their new composition notebooks and un-sharpened pencils, and they all sit and write so delicately on the first page in response to my first question. Next week, a backpack will be lost. In a month, someone will have cut my class. In six months, the senior-itis will be suffocating every ounce of work ethic from their very beings. The first day, however, is an escape from all of the will-happens; it is the hope that all the negatives will, this year, fall into the didn't-happen category. And, maybe, just maybe, they will. Maybe they will learn where to place a comma when beginning a sentence with a subordinate clause. Maybe they will find a deep appreciation for
Beowulf's alliterative verse. Maybe they will master the eloquence of a perfectly formulated thesis statement. Maybe {and, of course,
hopefully} they will become better people. But, maybe, they won't.
The first day of school does leave a small twinge in my heart for a few summer specialties. One, I love sleeping in. A 7:30 AM start to school means I am {hopefully} waking up at 6:00 AM to get to my classroom with time to spare for mailbox-checking and photo-copying {I didn't even know people functioned this early until I started teaching}. Two, I love to start the day with a long run. I don't feel like a normal human being until I've met my daily sweat quota, and getting any type of workout before the school day begins is just an overzealous, unrealistic idea. Three, I am insanely jealous of people who get to "go out" for lunch. I often wish for a small semblance of lunch as a teacher, but by the time the bell rings, I'm lucky to have made it to the refrigerator to grab my sack of food, which generally contains leftovers from the night before {if I'm lucky}.
The first day of school, however, also brings an aura of positive energy. Friendships are reunited. Teams are brought back together. The hallways smell of coffee, new shoes and laughter {if one can get past the stench leaking from the boys' bathroom}. The new school year means new life and, more importantly, new clothes. Of course, I never miss an opportunity to buy a new outfit. This year, in the spirit of saving, I was coveting the striped
Merona dress from Target. Nevermind that I already have an almost identical version from
Madewell, the Merona dress is knee-length {a must for teaching} and heavier material, which makes it great for every season. More importantly, it has pockets {yes, multiply the cuteness of a dress by 10 when factoring in these gems}, and it cost me a mere $22 with my
Carthweel app. Paired with a bow belt and some pretty pumps, this dress helped me usher in the class of 2014 with all smiles. Here, my friends, is to the maybes.
