The Poetics of the First Day of School

The first thing to realize about the first day of school is that it is not one but many firsts. Instead of “this” first day we have “these” first days—a network of first days, a flock, a bouquet. Most schools have a first day for teachers, beginning with pastries and coffee, or maybe an actual breakfast served by the School Board (note the symbolism). Maybe we receive our class lists, seeing, for the first time, who we’ll be spending our year with. We’ll meet new faculty for the first time, and new leaders.

At the public charter school where I’m teaching, kids choose to attend. They come from different schools all over Maine. On the Wednesday of the first week, we’ll have an evening gathering for the families of new students. This isn’t their first time in the school. They have been to the school and toured it before, but it is their first time gathering en masse. It’s their first time coming together as a cohort. Watching how they interact as they meet each other for the first time is beyond fascinating.

The next day is the first day with students, though it’s only freshmen and new 10-12 kids. It’s also the first day of Freshmen Academy, a weeklong cohort building event that allows them to bond while we watch and try to figure out how they all mesh.

On Friday, we’ve got the first day with the entire student body, the whole dang mob getting together for the All School meeting, and hearing from the new Head-of-School—it’s his first time—about how the opportunity for each kid and the school to be great is matched only by the responsibility on everyone in the room to make it so.

One week following, grade 10-12 students do the “real” schedule for the first time and begin the routine that will comprise their year. Four days later, the Freshmen Academy will be over and the First-Years will do their real schedules for the first time.

That’s a lot of firsts. If encountering new experiences makes you nervous perhaps do some meditation? Take a walk in the woods? Or eat a cheese danish? In addition to the quantity of new things, there is the complexity of newness to deal with.

There are different kinds of first days. The first day for a junior is different from the first day for a freshman who is leaving the cohort they’ve very likely been with since elementary school and joining this salad bowl of kids from all over the place. Our school is famous for the fact that it does things differently. We exist just so we can do things differently. It’s not just another high school that these kids are encountering. It’s a whole new way of doing high school that they’re getting used to. The first-ish-ness of this first day is vivid and acute.

Similarly, the quality of a first day back that veteran faculty enjoy will be different from the first day of a newly entering teacher or a newly entering head of school! The first day for a teacher in their first ever teaching job since credentialing will further be different from the first day of a teacher coming back into the profession after 17 years away (that would be me).

This school embraces these firsts, almost to a reckless degree, but the attention given to their importance by faculty and admin is extraordinary. The fact that every first day is a fresh start—ground within which one can grow new relationships—is not lost on us. In a fire ceremony on the grounds, kids are invited to write down whatever they’d like to leave behind from their old schools—patterns, reputations, expectations—and start anew.

During the All School meeting this morning, the seniors were welcomed in—now the wise elders of the student body—and someone pointed out to them that this was their “last first day.” It’s a type of first I hadn’t considered before. It got me thinking.

Photo at top by Mary Taylor.