Day One All Over Again

Our girls were excited for us to see their classrooms and meet their teachers. It would be the first in-person open house since before the pandemic and we were all looking forward to attend. I was already to go for more than our children because earlier that day I had met with the presidents of the teacher and administrative/support staff unions to talk about their priorities. I'll be on the school board starting next year so the timing was good before our open house. 

But I have to admit, I was a little apprehensive for this middle school open house. The ghosts of decades past school anxieties always bubble up for me before these current in-person school events. 

Onward I went. It was great to see old friends and parents of kids we've been going to school with since preschool and kindergarten. Our youngest Bryce is in beginning choir this year, so before the class tours started we watched her perform with the rest of the kids and the school band performed as well. 

Our oldest Beatrice had looked forward to showing us around the school and wanted to make sure we knew where we were going. Again, it had been nearly three years since our last open house, prior to Bea starting 6th grade. The girls have been back in school for the past year, but more of the parent events have been virtual until now.

Our plan was to divide and conquer and then switch. Meaning, my wife Amy and I would go to each girl's first three period classes, then we'd switch for the last three periods. We'd been having a heatwave and the first few classes were really hot and stuffy, which triggered my anxiety. I pushed through though and kept my focus on what the teachers shared with the parents in the room. 

But then I misread Bryce's third period room number on the schedule she wrote out for us and went to the wrong room. The teacher was one that Bea had in 6th grade, one of her favorites in middle school so far, and I knew Bryce didn't have him. I felt bad, but a few minutes into his intro I knew I had to go find the right room. I apologetically got up to leave and he was gracious with my exit, giving me a fist bump on the way out. 

When it was time to go to Bea's physical education period, I asked another teacher where to go. She pointed to the field where a group of parents gathered, so that's where I went. Later Beatrice would point out that was the 6th grade PE period, not the 8th grade one. Hers was in the gym, so I missed out on that one. 

The last class of open house was Beatrice's history class. By then the outside air was much cooler and flowed into the open classroom windows. We all sat down and the teacher started her overview. I heard music playing in the distance and it sounded like it was coming in from the outside windows where all the kids played waiting for their parents to be done. But then it sounded like it was inside the room somewhere. I thought, who's playing music right now? 

The music persisted and now I could tell is was Abacab by Genesis. Great song, I thought. And then it hit me -- the music was coming from me. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone that was playing the music. Somehow I had started playing iTunes as we entered the classroom. I apologized and everyone laughed. The teacher didn't look too happy about it and I actually worried she would take my phone away. A dad in front of me said, "I love that song." 

That's how our girls' open house went for me. Just like that, it felt like my first day of junior high all over again. Anxious, sweaty, going to the wrong classes, feeling shy and withdrawn, accidentally playing music in class (which I never did way back when because I didn't have a phone then), and generally feeling out of sorts. And it wasn't just a coming-back-from-summer-break out of sorts. It was a coming-back-from-a-crazy-pandemic one.

I'm sure others felt the same way. Students, parents, teachers, and administrators alike. It's like day one all over again; the first time in a long time. But day one leads to another year of learning and out of sorts becomes in the zone. I thought about my meeting earlier in the day with the teacher and support staff union presidents. As long as we can recruit and retain quality teachers and support staff (not easy without enough affordable housing where we live); meet our children individually where they're at academically and provide the learning support they need; and provide them the social, emotional, and physical safety skills needed throughout life, we'll be okay. No easy task for sure, but a mission we're all signing up for.