No More Pencils...

Ah, the smell of impending summer! Although it's not so much a smell, is it, as a feeling...an aura...a vague lightness of spirit that seems to expand and swell like a deep cleansing breath as the month progresses? Whatever it is, there's nothing quite like the approach of Memorial Day to make a teacher feel like a kid again.

For most of the year, teaching is a job like any other, and days spent in the classroom evoke in teachers only the same momentary nostalgia felt by other grownups unexpectedly returned -- by a memory, a reunion, a foraging in the attic -- to their own school days.

For most of the year, teachers feel pretty much as removed from their own school days as those grownups who don't spend their working hours between bulletin-board covered walls in a stuffy paste-and-peanut-butter-overlaid-with-ammonia-scented classroom.

For most of the year, teachers feel like real grownups whose office building just happens to be a school; whose office just happens to be a classroom.

But then comes the end of May...

And no matter how old they are, or how many years it's been since they've moved from the front row of desks to the desk in the front of the room, on the last day of school -- and this I promise you is true -- there's not a teacher alive who doesn't run or skip or bound down the schoolhouse steps without silently -- and joyfully -- singing, "No more pencils. No more books. No more students' dirty looks..."

As we wrap up another school year, I leave you with this thought...The only other day of the year that can make a teacher feel like a joyful kid again is the first day of school. We'll see you then!