The Walls Of Our NEW School

On the first day of this past June I wrote a fond farewell to the school building I had called home for 19 years.  The first day of June was the final day of school for the year as well as the final day Fairview Elementary would ever host students.  Strong emotions had been building in our staff during the months leading up to this end - anxiety about an impending move, melancholy for leaving such a familiar and loved place, and, most powerfully for many, disappointment with what our new structure ended up being....namely, a double-stacked hallway to nowhere.  These were dark days for my teaching family.

Not quite three months later we are mostly settled into our new elementary school.  Boxes are unpacked, furniture arranged.  Open House has come and gone, as has teacher workshop week.  We now enter a holiday weekend and gather ourselves for the long march through another school year, and as we do I sense a major shift in the outlook towards the future in our new home.  The darkness has been pushed aside and replaced with.....with.....hope, maybe?  Possibility?  Pretty sure there's some relief in the air.  I daresay I've noticed some excitement, too....though this hombre only revs up to cautious enthusiasm.  Many of us will always have that dejected voice in the depths of our being reminding us how far reality fell from the dreams we had for what a new school could be.  I won't speak for everyone, but the disappointment I have carried for a long, long time over the way our new home was designed has diminished rapidly over the last five days.  I'm not going to shout from the rooftops....though I could by means of a nearby exit onto the school roof....but I am feeling far more optimistic about my new educational home than I ever thought I would.

For starters, our new school sits on the outskirts of town; our former school sat smack dab in the middle.  Our new school is surrounded by trees, trails, ponds, and tranquility.  I used to look out the window and see a parking lot next to a major highway - now my second-story view includes a copse of deciduous trees, a pine plantation, a nature trail, and an open yard just waiting to be gardened. 

  

Our new school sits at the end of two different bike paths, one of which meanders a good golf shot from my house giving me a terrific commute by bike anytime I want (except maybe January).  Our new school has bright lights that don't hum, air that is free from the smell of age, and water that runs through new pipes.  The family of educators that has always surrounded me still does, and together we join a whole new teaching family who waited for our arrival while the new structure was added to their school.  The list could go on 'cause these new digs ain't so bad after all.

I went back to Fairview yesterday on a reconnaissance mission, looking for items that didn't get moved.  I think it was clear in my June ode to the old school that I loved the place, so I was taken aback when I walked into my beloved former home and realized.....it was a dump.  It looked old, it smelled old, it felt old.  It felt tired.  It felt foreign.  I made my way from room to room and and with every step knew more clearly - moving out was the right thing, moving on had to be the next thing.  Thankful for one more look, and thankful for 19 great years, I left behind the only teaching home I have ever known.  And for the first time, I didn't feel sad to do so.

The walls of our new school will soon fill with students and noise and tears and laughter...and memories.  I'm ready to start my 20th year in education in a brand new setting, excited - that's right, excited - about the opportunities it presents and for the memories yet to be made.  And yes, I'm a little bit stunned to be writing such things.