Back-to-School Night

Last Wednesday, Grandview held its back-to-school night. It’s a big event for us. Parents of elementary-aged children come early and see the classrooms where their sons and daughters spend their days; they “ooh” and “ahh” over the neat projects they have been working on, and then they drink coffee and eat cookies and go on home. Parents of middle- and high-school-aged children have it a little bit harder. They begin in their child’s homeroom, where they receive their child’s schedule. Then, they walk from class to class, in 10-minute intervals, meeting their child’s teachers and trying to figure out what we do in school all day. This is certainly not dissimilar to any other school’s back-to-school night.

For me, back-to-school night was a huge success this year. My life science kids had recently completed a very cool project in which they had to make up their very own creature. Their creations were on display all over the room, and it looked great. As for the room itself, well, I have all new equipment – new tables, new stools, new sinks – and the parents absolutely loved the new set-up. Everything fell right into place, the parents seemed to like what I said and generally agree with my philosophies, and I even got a few compliments like, “Little Johnny just loves your class!” It was a long day, but it was a successful one.

As I was driving home after about 13 hours at school, I was reminiscing about last year’s back-to-school night. For many of the teachers (but mostly for the administrators), back-to-school night causes a lot of stress, and that was certainly true for me last year. I remember feeling pretty freaked out as the event loomed. What was I supposed to say? What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to wear?

I remember being worried that the parents would know I was unqualified to teach their children. I wondered what I’d do if one of them demanded to see my teaching certificate! And I was sure they would all take one look at my young, scared face and think, “She can’t possibly know anything about science!” I don’t know if I’ve ever been more nervous than in those moments leading up to the arrival of the parents.

But then, as the event began in Grandview’s makeshift auditorium and I stood against the wall with the rest of Grandview’s teachers, it hit me, for the first time since I’d started the job a month before, that I was finally part of something worthwhile, something meaningful, something big. By the time my principal had announced my name and introduced me as the brand new science teacher, my fear had subsided, and in its place was pure, simple pride. I remember having to choke back tears at the sound of my name being read along with the names of so many people I had grown so quickly to respect. I remember feeling silly about it at the time and hoping no one would notice. Looking back, I realize that it was the first time I really, truly felt like I was a part of this team.

My school isn’t perfect. No school, no place of work, no set of colleagues is. But, very unlike my experience in Corporate America, I now work in a place where there are common goals. We work toward them together. We succeed – and we sometimes fail – together. And we don’t do it for a big paycheck or for 15 minutes of fame. We do it simply because it’s a noble cause, and we all believe in it.

One year ago, it hit me that I was a part of this most noble cause, after searching for something to believe in for so, so long. I’ve learned a lot, grown a lot, changed a lot from one back-to-school night to the next; but I will never forget where I came from and why it’s so good to be right here.