Anticipation

I'm walking the halls at my husband's school, running errands, helping him laminate posters, chasing my own children out of his colleagues' rooms.

There's an interesting atmosphere in the school. A strange dynamic that I can't quite put my finger on.

Even without any children in the building, (except for teacher's kids...who don't count...because they are essentially unpaid work crews) there's an anticipation for the next year. It radiates from every room as teachers work on various tasks to get ready for their new students.

The school is drowning in bulletin board borders, die cut shapes, and school supplies. There's the distinct aroma of brand new crayons, freshly sharpened pencils, and a smidgen of hot glue and copy paper.

The teachers ooh and ahh over the treasures others have found for their own students over the summer. They show off their new bean bag chairs for reading centers, models of the solar system for their ceilings, and tons of other items purchased to enrich their classrooms.

Pieces of conversations drift towards me as I walk the halls.

"This year, I really want to..."
"Do you think the kids will like...."
"...and books they really can relate to..."
"...the best year yet."

Everywhere the chatter centers on the new faces soon to be arriving in the classrooms.

Possibility and hope drift out of the open classroom doors and swirl through the hallways ready to settle on any unsuspecting student that walks through the door of the school.

A little settles on me and I begin to think.

The power that these teachers have is unimaginable. They will change lives this next year. Students will understand not only times tables and grammar. Vital lessons about themselves, their peers, and how to find their way in the world will be realized in these halls, in these rooms.

There will be tough moments. Moments when the teachers will wonder why they picked this profession. They'll doubt their competency because a ten-year-old boy tells them they are the worst teacher in the world or because a student hates to read. The new teachers will wonder if someone more experienced could bring understanding. The veteran teachers will worry that someone who is up on the latest trends could do a better job.

And then a student will say, "I get it", and the teacher will sigh, sit back, and smile. Their entire year will have been made. That one bit of almost praise and near recognition will sustain them until the last day, when books are packed back up, lights are shut back off, and they begin again... planning for the next year's students.

---With all the back to school stuff, I missed participating in my favorite weekly carnival, Sincerely 'Fro Me To You hosted at We Are THAT Family. Go visit it, there are some great posts over there, (including Kristen in a bathing suit). In the meantime, I'll work hard to find something truly humiliating to show you next Thursday.

---Subscribe to World's Greatest Mommy posts by email or in a reader.