As I shook off the last remnants of sleep this morning, I
heard the school bus go down the street, scavenging for any highschooler
unlucky enough to have neither a driver’s license and a car nor a friend
willing to pick him up. It’s the first
day of school.
Just the sound of the bus can conjure up the feelings of
anticipation when, as children on the first day of school, we realized that we
had come one more step closer to paradise—that day when we would be adults and
school was out for us forever. We would
be free to do what we wanted, with no one ordering us around, no homework, and
we wouldn’t be confined to a desk seven hours a day. We had no idea that we were one step closer
to the ultimate disillusionment:
adulthood would never be as carefree or unrestricted as any childhood
day of summer vacation. But we didn’t
know that then. We looked forward to
seeing friends, finding our new classroom, and finally opening that new box of
crayons.
Now I teach young people on the cusp of adulthood. In a couple of weeks, they’ll leave their
parents and homes, and move into our dorms.
They will look forward to studying the field they’ve chosen, making
lifelong friends, and perhaps finding that one true love. It will be their first taste of what
adulthood will be like, and it will be a shock.
Yes, there will be parties, but there will also be laundry. Yes, there are no enforced bedtimes, but
there will be 7:15 classes. Yes, there
will be freedom to go out for Taco Bell every night, but such indulgences will
cost precious spending money, and Mom’s not around to hand out a twenty.
For now, let’s just revel in the remembered smell of pencil
shavings, sweeping compound, sweaty children, and chalk dust. Good luck on the first day of school; may it
really be all you’ve dreamed.
