I imagined my ideal start to high school being something like Winnie Cooper turning into a hottie over the summer on The Wonder Years. Then, once my power and charm were established, the second year and beyond would be like the Pink Ladies showing up to Rydell High ready to rule the school.
So, that didn’t happen. Instead I spent a lot of high school fretting over who I could get a ride to lunch and/or home with and where I could hide if no rides appeared. And I kept waiting to, ahem, ‘blossom’, but never did. The good news is that I still found a lot to love and developed my passion for words and the atmosphere of education.
That’s why the start of school is my favorite time of year. I missed it so much the first year I stayed home with the kids. Being on bedrest was the only reason I stayed out of the stores and their tempting Back to School displays. Not having a class to outfit would not have stopped me.
I started dreaming of the boys going to school as soon as I held them and not just so I could be alone in my house again. There will be no first day dresses, but there will be backpacks, pens, and meeting teachers. All the best stuff lies before them. My greatest hope and my greatest fear is that they adore their teachers. I of course want them to have the kind of teachers I remember, but I’ll be sad when they have someone else they are trying to please.
I’m getting all misty and dreamy because today is the first day of school here in Poland. It was such a sweet scene near the schools and bus stops. There were bunches of kids dressed to impress. They looked nervous while attempting to look cool. Some were escorted by parents, and I imagined them to be new to town like I have been so many times. The sky was blue and the blazers were new. My own boys were dressed in polo shirts and jeans and excited to see what might be new at their school.
That’s why school is so great. It is filled with hope every new year. At least, I pray that’s what it’s like for my sweet boys.