Today was the first day of classes for both Kenosha Unified and Racine Unified schools. . . and it was so funny to think about the very different attitudes with which my wife Kathy and my niece Lorelai were anticipating this day. For my wife, it meant the all-too-early end of summer vacation and the start of another draining year of teaching. And the prospect of teaching in a windowless room without air conditioning on a hot and humid a day did not exactly inspire a dance of glee. But beneath the grumbling and mock tears (“I don’t WANNA go to school!” is a refrain I hear a fair amount these days, especially first thing in the morning) my wife deeply appreciates having a job and the opportunity to teach at such a fine school. And it sounds like she had a pretty good first day. One thing that may give her teaching a little shot in the arm this year is that- for the first time since she started teaching at Schulte 24 years ago- she does not have tables or desks in her room…… only chairs! It means rethinking a fair amount of what she does, but it also means that some new things will be easier to do. It may not sound like all that exciting a change (it’s not like they painted the walls rainbow stripes or installed a wet bar in the back of the classroom) but it shakes things up a bit, which is almost always a good thing.
By the way, the highlight of Kathy’s recounting of the day’s events was her story about a youngster – a newcomer to the school, in fact- who is related to someone on the Schulte staff, and thus is familiar with the school and sort of used to doing whatever she likes there. But now she’s a student and that means having to do what she’s told. At one point the little girl caught sight of friend of hers out in the hall and wanted to go out and say hi to her. But class was underway and Kathy simply couldn’t let her do that. The answer was no. The girl protested. The girl pouted. The girl stood up, put her clenched fists up to her cheeks, and “cried” – or as my wife described it, she tried that “fake crying crap.” This little girl obviously had no idea who she was dealing with . . . but she does now. 🙂
Today was also a First Day for our niece Lorelai. . . who started kindergarten at Somers Elementary School. We all knew that once she got there, she would love school as much as she’s loved anything else. (Well, maybe not as much as Disney World- but other than that. . . ) especially because we knew she had an absolutely fantastic teacher in Kim Frost- plus a phenomenal music teacher in Sandy Lindgren. But how would that first drop-off go? Would there be tears? (It was easy to envision them from both Lorelai and one or both of her “chauffeurs.”) But no, she was delighted and excited, and that’s about all you can ask for such a moment. We had a chuckle last night when Kathy called their house and spoke to Lorelai to wish her good luck. She was envisioning a sort of aural Kodak moment – a heartfelt exchange on the eve of this new adventure – but unfortunately Lorelai was finishing up some Wii game and Kodak just couldn’t quite squeeze into the picture. But luckily we got to babysit Lorelai today (boy, “babysit” is starting to feel like a real misnomer!) and we got to hear all about her splendid first day.
I vividly remember when my parents dropped off my little brother Nathan for his first day of school – and 35 years later, I can still see the tears streaming down my mom’s cheeks. I know it had to feel like something very precious had slipped away from her way too soon. I think that parents (and for that matter, aunts and uncles and godparents) have this sense that just by stepping through that doorway, their little one is forever changed- and are somehow going to come walking out at the end of that first day quoting Chaucer and doing Calculus. Having Lorelai with us today was a nice reminder that even though she started school today, it’s not as if Lorelai has suddenly outgrown the color pink or her fascination with princesses or her nervousness around our dogs. Nor has she outgrown her love of cuddling with her Aunt Kathy. And when she and I played our Swinging Game tonight (where she and I engage in a dramatic countdown, after which I dramatically fling her in the air and land her on the overstuffed pillows of our living room couch) she was squealing with delight as much as ever. . . and was plenty put out when her dad came by and said that it was time to go home. In other words, she is still Lorelai. . . and nothing could make us happier than that!