Here’s how I hope it goes…I arrive at school early dressed an a perfect outfit with amazingly comfortable shoes. I walk purposefully to my classroom easily juggling the pile of last minute items I’m bringing in. My computer turns on quickly and the playlist I’ve prepared plays quietly in the background. I walk down to the copy room, which is empty, and recopy my Course Overview because I found a typo this weekend. But it is no problem because the copier works quickly and no one else needs it. I return to my classroom and fellow teachers stop by to wish me luck and say how happy they are that I am back. I smile and say, “Thank you so much” in a tone that is both confident but also humble. I admire my room for about 15 minutes because I’m so early and well prepared. The bell rings. I take a deep breath and move to stand in the hallway. It is filled with excited faces and happy voices. My students find my classroom easily and read my crystal clear directions on my visually pleasing whiteboard slides. Each student finds a seat of their choosing and opens the book they are currently reading. By the time the start bell rings, my room is quiet as happy readers are already enthralled in their books. I hate to interrupt them, but I want to get started with my perfect welcome speech. I gently ask them to close their books. They do. And I begin.
However. The reason I’m up at 4 am writing this is because that is probably NOT how things will roll out.
This is what I fear…I fly into the parking lot just 20 minutes before school starts. In spite of getting up at 3:00, I’m late because I wrote a blog, looked at Facebook, ordered some clothes from Loft (big sale) and made some last minute changes to my slides, Course Description and reading logs.
The pile of books, papers, fake plants and my lunch balance precariously on top of my rolling card. I hit a bump and in an effort to save everything, I reach for the plant and spill my coffee all over my yellow pants and the originals I need to copy.
I throw the broken plant into the garbage and drag my dripping pile down the hallway to my classroom. Everything I set up on Friday night has been moved a bit by the custodians, so I begin to put things back in place as my computer slowly comes to life.
Class starts in 10 minutes and kids are swarming outside my windows.
My computer finally wakes up and I send my print job to the copier. I rush down and already my feet are hurting in the too high shoes I choose to wear.
I arrive in the copy room and a line of five teachers’ backs greet me. They don’t turn around when I walk in.
“Isn’t this just how it goes,” someone says. “A broken copier on the first day. Not a good sign for the year.”
I slink back to my room. Okay, I think, no Course Overview, but that’s okay. What do sixth graders really want with a Course Overview anyway?
The bell is ringing and I’m scrambling to finish organizing. I move to the hallway as kids push past me into the classroom.
“Welcome!” I say, “I’m Mrs. Angel. I’m so glad you’re here.”
They don’t look at me, don’t even hear me because they have earbuds in and are looking at their phones. We have a no phone policy which starts at 8:15 but it is currently 8:10 so do I say something? I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot, but they are all ignoring me.
Pretty soon there are lots of kids walking around my room, moving chairs around tables talking loudly, not reading the instructions I’ve meticulously written on the whiteboard. I turn and realize the whiteboard is blue…technical difficulty. No wonder they can’t read it.
The bell rings. I can’t get their attention in my normal voice so I have to raise it a bit. Just then a colleague walks by my room and looks in with a smirk.
“Not as easy as you thought,” he says.
Tears begin to burn my eyes. My feet hurt. The coffee stain feels damp on my thigh. And I hear a student say, “Who choose this dumb pile of books? These are ridiculous.”
Okay, I’m stopping this nightmare now because I’m scaring myself! But, do you see now why a teacher can’t sleep? There are a thousands little ways that the plans we make can go wrong. And we want the first day to be perfect.
I know it won’t be perfect, though. But I hope with all of my heart that it turns out to be good enough that my students feel happy and comfortable and want to come back tomorrow. I’ll keep you posted.
Stacie Angel 