The Runs

My first year of teaching I taught across the hall from a gentleman who had been a fifth grade for 36 years. Over three decades in the classroom had flattened him into a short, stout man who had the demeanor of Eeyor, but who nevertheless had kept his sense of humor and seemed to enjoy what he did. He was particularly proud of the newspaper his fifth graders produced every year and of his collection of cigar boxes that he sold on Ebay.

He mostly kept to himself that year, we all did, but the day before the first day of school he stopped by my room and poked his head in. I was putting the final touches on a bulletin board that proclaimed a Reading Oasis in the library, complete with hand made construction paper cut outs of islands.

"I always get diarrhea on the first day of school," he confessed in the monotone drawl of a depressed donkey. I repressed the mental image this conjured. "Excuse me?" I asked.

"Every year. I've been doing this so long, you would think I wouldn't bat an eye at the first day. But each year I get the runs. No matter how long you teach, it's still terrifying. Well, good night."

I laughed and relaxed, and thanked him for his comment which was obviously a fabrication intended to make me feel better. I hadn't slept well in two weeks, ever since I was offered the job in mid August, but I was certain that with time my pre-school jitters would subside. Certainly after a few years, opening day would become routine.

This is my tenth year of teaching and I have diarrhea.

In my current school teachers return to the building three weeks before the students. The first week back is about reconnecting with our school culture, bonding as a staff, and thinking deeply about our school mission. It's quite "kumbaya," but an essential part of our training. Teachers generally arrive just in time for the first session and leave as early as possible to make it to a baseball game or yoga class or cocktail hour. It is still summer, after all. In my mind I am working in first and second gear. Nice and easy.

The second week, reality starts to set in. Our professional development shifts to curriculum design. We start mapping out math and literacy for the year, work in grade level teams to pour over the standards and discuss differentiation. But there is still time. The evenings are still filled with long conversations by the pool and trips to the mall for back to school shopping. I shift into third gear. A nice clip.

Tomorrow begins the third week. Family conferences start on Thursday. The students arrive the following Tuesday. It's time. Summer is over. Oh shit. I skip fourth gear and plunge right into fifth.

My to do list seems endless, with high priority items ranging from "label the cubbies" to "re-read chapter 8 of The Art of Teaching Reading." This is the first year I will be "looping" with my students, so there is a certain amount of relief and confidence that comes from meeting the same group of children and families. But I still feel a panic welling inside of me, like when watching a clogged toilet fill after it has been flushed: Maybe it will be okay... maybe it will be okay... maybe... Get the plunger!