First Day in the First Grade
Little D is starting first grade today.
I almost didn’t want to write about it because I feel like every “mom blogger” out there is writing about the first day of school and all the emotions that come along with it and I don’t want to be just another post about the same thing in your Bloglovin’ feed.
So this post is for me. And for her. But you can read along 😉
I am feeling particularly anxious about this transition for my girl.
She is moving from the safe, secure bubble of her little private preschool/kindergarten into a much bigger, open public school which will house hundreds of kids all the way up to grade five.
She will have a new teacher, a bigger classroom, her own desk, homework that actually matters, and the influence of so many new faces and voices and opinions, all bearing down on her.
For the first time in her life, really, she will be exposed to a world much bigger than any she has known thus far, without me by her side.
She will encounter mean girls and nice girls and boys who want to play ninjas with her and boys who won’t. She will not always be the best reader or the fastest runner or the popular one.
I worry, sadly, about safety and relative strangers and an exposed campus and all the ridiculous things that we have to worry about as parents these days.
I worry about bullying and peer pressure and lice.
But I won’t show her any of it. I won’t speak of it, or whisper of it with my husband (at least not while she’s awake), or give her 101 warnings as she marches into her first day.
Instead I will remember my year in the first grade.
I will remember Mrs. Ness, who was probably the toughest teacher I ever had, and who easily taught me the most.
I will remember the feeling of having my own desk, with my own textbooks that I was responsible for, all wrapped tightly in brown paper to keep them safe and sturdy.
I will remember school assemblies where I was in nothing but pure awe at all the kids running around, big and small, and how many of them eventually became friends and familiar faces.
I will remember the safety I felt in my little school. The principal who knew my name (and how to pronounce it), the scent of the library books as they cracked open for our curious eyes, the field of grass (the “Big Field”) we ran through without giving a thought to what lay beyond its fenced border.
And most of all, I will remember walking out of school in those first few days of grade one, straight into the safety of my waiting mother’s hand.
I will remember walking home with a heavy load of books in my new backpack, feeling that much closer to my older sister and her world all of a sudden.
I will remember the pride I took in reading and writing and math and science. The joy I felt when I learned something new. The excitement of everything I was able to experience.
I will remember how much I loved school and couldn’t wait to go back the next day.