Every August Brings a Fresh Start
One of the great gifts of the teaching profession is its rhythm. Every school year has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Every August brings a reset. A fresh start. And every teacher, no matter how many years she’s taught, hopes this one will be the year everything comes together.
As you get ready to head into a new school year, what are you excited about?
I know—you’ll miss sleeping in, lingering over your morning coffee, enjoying a little peace and quiet, and using the restroom whenever you feel like it. (Teachers understand that last one better than anyone.)
But I also know something else.
There’s a part of you that is already waking up. Your creative juices are beginning to flow again. You’re jotting down ideas, rearranging your classroom in your mind, and thinking about new ways to reach your students. You walk past the school supply aisle and see packs of loose-leaf paper, boxes of crayons, fresh composition books, and perfectly sharpened pencils. You may roll your eyes and sigh dramatically, but deep down you’re smiling.
Because this is who you are.
You are a teacher.
And teachers love beginnings.
Every new school year carries with it the possibility that this will be the year a struggling reader discovers the joy of books. The year a shy student finds her voice. The year a child finally believes he is capable. The year a difficult class becomes your favorite class. Every August whispers, Maybe this year…
Then Reality Walks In
But before the wax on the floor is dry, reality starts unpacking its own bags.,,,
Right alongside the bags of bulletin board decorations, extra pencils, glue sticks, crayons, folders, binders, tissues, hand sanitizer, and all the other supplies you bought with your own money.
You didn’t really mind.
Or maybe you’ve just forgotten that you should.
You didn’t even need to report for several more days, but you knew you couldn’t wait.
The classroom wasn’t going to decorate itself.
Before you could even think about class lists, seating charts, or lesson plans, you needed to get your room ready.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you also knew there would be new initiatives to learn, new expectations to meet, and—because some things never change—another presentation on bloodborne pathogens.
A few days later, you’re sitting in the auditorium, coffee in one hand and a three-ring binder in the other. You notice the new teachers scattered around the room and wonder if they’re excited…or terrified. The principal welcomes everyone back. Someone introduces this year’s theme. There will be icebreakers, new initiatives, new acronyms, new forms, and new expectations. And while everyone around you is talking about the new school year, you’re quietly wondering whether you have what it takes to do this one more time.
Whether this is your first year or your thirty-first, August brings the same strange mixture of excitement and dread.
Teaching isn’t what it was twenty-five years ago.
Parents expect more and often appreciate less.
Administrators are under pressure themselves, and sometimes teachers feel like they’re standing alone.
Students bring burdens into the classroom that no child should have to carry.
Teachers often feel blamed for what’s wrong with education while hearing people suggest that almost anyone could do the job.
Schools scramble to fill vacancies.
Teachers are asked to do more with less.
Buy more.
Document more.
Differentiate more.
Endure more.
And somewhere in the middle of all of that…
You’re supposed to teach.
There are burdens teachers carry that most people never see.
The back-to-school dreams start sometime around mid-July.
You know the ones.
Mine usually involved students who simply refused to sit down. I’d finally convince one to take a seat and another would stand up. I knew the principal was about to walk in, and I was convinced she’d discover that I couldn’t even survive the first five minutes of the day.
It was a life-sized game of Whac-A-Mole—except I had to persuade the moles instead of whacking them.
I would wake up in a cold sweat.
It’s funny now.
It wasn’t funny at 3:00 a.m.
You know there will be one parent that is not supportive… and even though you have so many wonderful parents who are kind and encouraging, that one weighs heavy on your mind.
You know there will be the student that you just can’t seem to reach.
You know you will start to feel behind… by week three – or maybe two.
You know it’s coming – and no one else can understand, unless they have been where you are.
I have.
And I’m here to tell you something.
Don’t believe the lies.
The Lies Teachers Believe
The lie that you have to save every child.
The lie that you have to make every parent happy.
The lie that if you work harder, it will finally be enough.
The lie that your value depends on your students’ test scores.
The lie that you have to be everything to everyone.
None of these things have ever been a part of your calling to be a teacher.
What God Actually Called You To
God never called you to save every child.
He never called you to make every parent happy.
He never called you to earn the approval of your administration.
He never called you to carry the weight of an entire educational system on your shoulders.
He called you to be faithful.
Faithful doesn’t mean perfect.
It doesn’t mean every lesson will be brilliant.
It doesn’t mean every student will succeed.
It doesn’t mean every parent will understand.
It means showing up, loving your students well, teaching the truth in front of you, and trusting God with everything beyond your control.
So, dear teacher…
Buy the pencils.
Hang the bulletin boards.
Learn the new initiative.
Welcome your students.
Love them well.
Teach faithfully.
And leave the results in God’s hands.
Welcome back.
