As an adult, there’s something about September that always makes me a bit melancholic. It’s the end of summer, the days are starting to get shorter, there’s that scent of fall in the air.
And oh yeah, it’s the start of another school year.
But I’m not in school anymore, haven’t been for 10 years. Yet, the feeling is still strong with me. So weird. I think I actually miss being in school.
Daughter starts JK this week. It’s not that big a deal as she’s already been in “school” for the last year – preschool, that is. Still, she’s entering the pubic school system and that’s a big deal, right? All weekend long, the local talk radio station has been talking about the back to school thing and dealing with children’s anxiety about school.
Anxiety? I don’t ever remember being anxious about the start of school. I loved school. As much as I hated to see summer end, there was a subtle thrill I felt every Labour Day evening as I gathered up my school supplies. I was both excited and scared all at the same time. I never cried when I got dropped off at school. I know there will be plenty of tears in my daughter’s JK class, but she certainly won’t be one of the kids crying. When we took her to preschool, she ran off to the playground without a second glance. I think she’ll do just fine at school.
I hope she loves school as much as I did.