First-day jitters

We’ve added a third person to our little carpool, and we pick her up today for the first time. Because it’s the first day of school, she is waiting for us in front of the elementary school where she has just dropped off her children. The day promises to be extremely hot, and she’s already pulling her dress away from her chest as she slips into the car.

“How’d it go?” I ask, and she reports that the kids are happily on their way into school with their new teachers. I think back to when I dropped my own children off at this same school, their sweaty hands clinging to mine when they were little and, later, those same hands raised in a quick goodbye as the child they were attached to dashed off to meet up with friends. Today, teenagers, neither child ‘fessed up to any nerves, but I know they were there – the first day of school is always a bit jittery.

Now, the car is full of chatter. One teacher is starting her third year of teaching and her second semester at GHS. Our new companion has been teaching longer, but she’s new to the school. Me? I’m the veteran – I’m pretty sure this is my 26th first day as a teacher, and it’s my third year at this school. We’re all a little sweaty – and I doubt it’s just the heat. As the A/C finally kicks in, we settle back and admit to our own nerves. Who slept last night? Who feels prepared? Does any teacher ever sleep well the night before the first day? Fully prepared for the moment the students walk in? We don’t think so.

The school building is already jumpy with students when we arrive, nearly an hour before the first bell. In the lobby, nervous teens check printed lists taped to the display case, trying to find their first period teacher. I overhear the same conversations I remember from my own first days as a student: “Who do you have?” “Do you know where room 2045 is?” “Wait? Are we in the same class?” I remember that edgy excitement.

As I walk away from the buzz of the main area towards the classrooms, a few of the students I taught last year tumble to a halt and say hello. One eyes the books I’m carrying. “Are those new?” she asks hopefully. I tell her yes, and show her that I’ve also got a new set of her favourite series from last year. “Oh!” she is excited, then suddenly she bites her lip. “Would it be ok if I borrow one of the ones I’ve already read?” By the time I say yes, the first in the series is in her hands, a shield against this nebulous new year.

Finally, I arrive at my classroom and open my door. I’m straightening up when a head pops in: “Miss, you have my brother!” True, but not this period. I walk them – the brother now stealing shy glances at me- to where they need to be. Back in the lobby, I find anxious parents, trying to understand the chaos in front of them. One family speaks French, and their relief is almost tangible when I respond. Yes, yes, their child is in the right place. Yes, I can help. I’m surrounded by languages I don’t know, too, as students greet each other in delight.

By now, I’ve forgotten my nerves, but the school is still fizzing with energy. A young woman I know from a club I sponsor rushes up to me. “Are you teaching Grade 12 English?” I am not. “But… I need you for Shakespeare.” I have no idea what she’s talking about. “I can’t do it, I just can’t,” she continues,”and I know you can help.” I assure her that her teacher can, in fact, teach Shakespeare well and that if she is still struggling she can come to me. Then I realize she has English second semester. I manage to hold back a laugh as I send her off to her first semester classes.

I smile at students I recognize, notice how they’ve grown and new hairstyles. I ask about summers and check timetables. Soon enough, most people have found their way to where they need to be, and I am again in the classroom. I don’t have students right now – it’s orientation for grade 9 students – but I can feel the energy pulsing through the walls.

That energy simmers and pops throughout the day. Students and staff move about the school, trying to find our places, trying to discover who we are this year, in this space, with these people. We won’t figure it all out today – heck, we might not all figure it out this year – but most of us will sleep better tonight than we did last night. For now, though, the truth is that many of us here are just a little jittery.