The crayons are down to nubbins, a
notebook chronicles the year’s success and failure by its cover etched with lost
loves scratched out and new names (complete with little hearts) inked in, the
backpacks and book bags are a little worse for wear, the teachers appear to have
added a gray hair (or two) and the kids look as if they are 5 inches taller…
where has the school year gone? It seems like yesterday that a collective
sigh was let out of the parents as the darlings scaled the steep steps of the
school bus or were dropped off at school with their “first day” outfit and
school supplies sparkling.
I remember the last weeks of school. There is something in the air.
Maybe it is a sense of accomplishment in all is well that ends well. The
cattiness of the first months has subsided (a bit), the bullies (aren’t we
impressed?) have temporarily called a moratorium on their victims, books are
being collected and long missing items are located in lockers and lost and
found. Being cooped up for the long winter is about to give way to the
sights, sounds, smells and the freedom of summer vacation.
Hopefully not all that was learned will be lost over the summer, but there is no
guarantee. Maintaining not only the academic part of school, but the more
basic kind of wisdom such as remembering the kid you thought was a jerk in the
beginning of the year turned out to be kind of funny and a possible accomplice
in future endeavors; that you can shower, dress, grab a bite of breakfast and
make the bus in 8 minutes if you have to; that cramming 10 minutes for a test
doesn’t always mean you know your stuff; that homemade cookies make a better
bargaining tool at lunch time than the store bought type; that true love can
last more than a week; that teachers and parents can be cool – for old people;
and, all good things must sometimes come to an end, are part of the process.
The most precious gift a teacher can ever give to their students is the love of
learning, the constant need to want to know and understand more. The
school year, 9 long months, can feel like a lifetime to an 8 year old
(relatively speaking, I guess it is). The summer holiday, on the other
hand, seems to fly by. Unconstrained by homework and bedtime rituals, yet
enhanced by drippy popsicles and sunburns, summer represents everything school
is not. The funny thing is kids don’t always realize just because they are
not sitting at a desk that they aren’t absorbing knowledge – and I think it
better that we don’t let them in on the secret.
I still get a tingle for summer vacation and am thankful that I have lived to
talk about some of the escapades. I hope that every red-blooded citizen
will have the opportunity to enjoy a “good summer” at least once in his or her
life. I have always considered the notion that if you learned something
new every day, it was a good day. Granted, not everything I was taught
came from a book, and I have had to trip, fall and pick myself up to start over
(regularly), but I persevere. For this, I must thank some of my teachers,
my parents, the drive-in movie theater owners and a bunch of people that I have
had the occasion to encounter over the years. A nugget of knowledge is
worth its weight in gold… and nice to receive for any reason, in any season of
the year, in or out of school.
Cynthia A. McClelland, curious
observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life.
Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.
