Staying Positive about the Promise and Peril of the New School Year

Remember lining up at the school door for the first day of school? Remember the thrill of finding out who was in your class and who would be your teacher? After the bell rang, remember running to find your new locker, unloading the boxes of crayons, smocks, sharpened pencils in spiffy cases, putting fresh binders into your desk, and presenting yourself to your new teacher with a big box of tissues. The room was bright, cheerful, and greeted you warmly. You worried about making a good impression on both your classmates and teachers. You wanted this year to be the best year ever! You had been perseverating about this first day for weeks, planning outfits, spreading rumors, peeking in windows, and pinning hopes on friendships and scholarship.

 

On the first day of classes as a teacher, I was beyond anxious. I wanted that first impression, that first class session to set the perfect tone and make every child feel welcome, excited, and joyful about our journey together. I wanted to learn everyone’s name and all about them! I want them to know that this would indeed be the best year ever!

 

How difficult it must be to muster up that kind of enthusiasm this year. How much work must it take for teachers to make a computer as welcoming and warm as a classroom? Turning on a computer cannot compare to the smell of freshly waxed floors and the din of kids in hallways. Six feet and social distance can create a chasm that will take labor to bridge.  How do we discover the real people behind the masks when we never get to see a smile in person?

 

We must! We can! Parents, teachers, administrators, counselors, social workers, and all the adults in children’s lives must join together to help students discover the deeply buried joy in learning this year. It is a mammoth undertaking fighting the fear and anger, the feelings of being abandoned and betrayed, and the overwhelming wish for our old normal routine.

 

I don’t know if that school is coming back, but it is not coming back soon. School staff and parents have been pushed to the frontlines of a battle that politicians have fought with only wishes and promises.

 

Yet, here we are – on our computers, trapped in our homes, alone in our classrooms and offices, in reconfigured spaces that feel alien and cold. We have been given a few weeks to prepare. We have been threatened and bullied. We have been asked to recreate symphonies with sticks.

 

We must trust our teachers and other school staff members to do right by kids. That is why they are there. They, too, must juggle their own family needs as we return to school.

 

We must help children rediscover the joy of learning. We must partner with their teachers and school staff and find creative ways to help them sustain engagement with school.

We must partner with parents and the community and try to find ways to balance the many pressing and important pieces of our lives beyond the schoolhouse. We must not sacrifice some for others.

 

To everyone who is going back to the classroom, campus, school, or center, may this school year bring you joy and connection. Despite the distance, may your students, teachers, colleagues, and friends help you learn, grow, and discover the best in yourself and the best in them. Despite the fear and anger, may your community wrap you in protection and health. Despite the challenges, may the new school year reaffirm your noblest goals and passions, and may it transform you and therefore transform the world.