A First Day of School

And such magic it always was. New backpacks, new clothes, new school supplies, a crispness to the air, such potential with new and old friends, such…magic. After doing the first day of school thing for what was 19 years, I sure do miss it, and am feeling the nostalgia and FOMO on this new September day.

I never did well in school. Not in english or social studies or in math or science. What I think it amounted to was that I couldn’t be bothered. I loved to read and I loved to hang out with my friends and I loved my extracurriculars—theatre and gym and dance and art.

I took a year off after high school, and learned what life might look like without further education. It was content and nice and…boring. I felt that’d be the rest of my life. So I went back to school, and I actually tried. Sure, it was a double major in theatre and creative writing (and I had to do a university transfer program first because my high school grades had sucked), but it still had hard stuff to learn. I graduated with distinction, because I learned how to learn and because I actually cared. Then I did a masters in publishing, and now I’m here. Not making much money, but happy and doing what I feel is important, and living how I feel I want to live, right now.

And honestly, I don’t remember much of anything that I learned from school. But what I will always keep is learning how to learn. Learning how to meet deadlines and work with others and have a million projects on the go at once. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

I sure do miss those carefree days that were being a student and I can’t wait for my Willow to experience that magic—to see what she’s interested in, what friends she makes, who she is…and I really will not mind if she’s not into school. Now I know she’ll be okay.

In FOLKLIFE, we’ve talked a lot about education. We even have a whole Volume themed ‘An Education’. My kind, smart, and generous mom was always a teacher and a big proponent of public school—knowing it wasn’t perfect but also knowing that abandoning it wasn’t the answer. In The Education Volume, we focus on different ways of schooling, as home-based and nature-based learning is a pretty big thing in these parts, but that mother of mine had her say as well, in her article called, “In Public School”, published below.

And if you feel like being inspired to all sorts of schoolings, read The Education Volume.

Happy first day back, everyone. May it be magical. 

I began teaching in a public junior high school when I was 21 and spent a career teaching in public schools. Now I teach teachers—both those learning to teach, and those seeking to improve their knowledge and skills. All five children in our family attended public schools, and one is now a teacher himself. When I reflect on public education, my views are informed by being a member of school communities in multiple roles throughout my life.

I often begin my university teacher education classes by asking students to recall their learning experiences. For some, the memories involve critical comments, feelings of inadequacy, and the impression that they were somehow not good enough. Schools are not perfect, and they fail some students in a myriad of ways: peers can be hurtful, teachers can make mistakes, and the noise, pace, and crowding can be overwhelming. Time spent in classrooms makes up a large percentage of a young person’s life, and the experiences there can both foster and limit wellness, confidence, and success.

And yet . . . when I reflect on my own observations of the school experience, the overwhelming images involve laughter, celebration, pride, and human connections. A gym full of teenagers spending the lunch hour line dancing, then continuing the tradition at high school dances. Birthday parties where friends from diverse cultures, socioeconomic experiences and backgrounds formed bonds that are still holding strong 15 years later. My differently-abled son’s beaming reply when asked how school was going, “Mom, everyone likes me,” then telling me about the principal taking him to lunch because he’d learned to read a levelled text. A group of high school girls visiting classes, urging us to reduce energy, conserve water, and think about sustainability and the planet’s survival—checking back later on to assess progress. A high school student who entered class an adamant non-reader saying, “That was a really good book. Where can I find more like that?” A message received from a drama student 30 years after I taught him: “I just wanted to say: no you, no me.” The public school where I live—with its student art, its hot lunch program supported by the students’ gardening, and the long list of community volunteers on the daily sign-in sheet. Classrooms in which students learn to count in Hul’qumi’num and listen to Indigenous Elders share stories and the knowledge they hold.

My experiences suggest that public school is where we learn to be Canadian alongside others who make up our diverse, complex, complicated world. It is where young people are offered a glimpse of broader possibilities and where they may develop the confidence and skills to pursue their own paths. I recognize the limitations and problems of public schools and understand movements such as home schooling and un-schooling that react to both the government-mandated curriculum and the hidden curriculum that comprise the school experience.

Our societies do control the information shared with students, and efforts to shift learning to be more student directed are slow to bring change. The structure of public schooling imposes regimentation on young people, with standardized start times, submission to authority, age-based grouping, competition, crowding and sensory overload that is comparable to prison environments, not to mention the exposure to cliques, peer pressure, and bullying. 

We need to keep striving to do better, but I do not believe that walking away from public schools is how we will bring about change. I recall learning that some of my colleagues’ own children did not attend public schools. Private schools, charter schools, often even home schooling, are options that involve the privilege of choice. But many do not have that choice, and if we leave the public schools to those who have no other options, how will we ever learn to live together in this world?

So I continue to believe in public schooling; in the commitment and hope of young teachers learning how to recognize the gifts and needs of the children they will spend their days with and their evenings planning for; in the potential for schools to respond to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s Calls to Action by valuing and embedding Indigenous perspectives in learning; in the possibility of igniting an interest that will guide a young person’s path; and in fostering connection between us in all our beautiful diversity as we learn together how to heal our world and all its inhabitants. My life and my family have been shaped by public education, and I am grateful for that privilege.