Story and photos
by Juliana LeRoy
It’s here! The best time of the year: Back to School!
Yippee!
Even though school starts way earlier than when I was a kid
(because of course I had to walk barefoot uphill both ways through
the snow to get there, after bringing in the crops), to me the
promise of a new school year always brings with it a heady sense of
excitement and possibility. This is my New Year – not the cold,
bleak January, but the hopeful, crisp, bright days of late summer
and early autumn, scented with newly-sharpened pencils and reams of
college-ruled paper.
Elementary school was a breeze; we were oblivious, invincible,
happy. No one cared about fashion, no one had any idea how to form
effective cliques, and your personality was expressed by the
character on your lunchbox.
We all showed up with new haircuts framing sun-kissed, freckled
faces, with a band of white where our summer-long bangs had
protected us as we skated, rode bikes, or swam our way through the
long days. If our hair was combed, we were ready for school. We all
had stiff new pants, bought just a little big, and we perspired our
way through the first week or so in our new sweaters and
layered-look fall fashions before commonsense let us relax back
into regular tee shirts.
We all had stiff new shoes, shiny with their non-scuffed toes
and bright buckles, but a couple of weeks of two-square, jump rope
and kickball soon took care of that. Each new grade there was the
fluttery thrill of a new teacher: Would she be mean? Would he give
lots of homework? Would they know lots of good rainy-day games, and
not just Heads Up, Seven Up? There was the delight of finding out
who would be in my class, the reunion with old friends and familiar
games and comforting routines.
Things got a little more complicated as we moved up to the
higher grades. Suddenly what you wore meant something. Brands
defined your coolness – Jordache, Esprit, Benetton, Trapper
Keepers, Topsiders. (Am I dating myself, here?)
On the first day of school there was always a bunch of kids who
had everything right from the top of their perfect hairdo to the
bottoms of their perfect shoes–and then there was the rest of us,
all stiff in our new Riders jeans and generic tee shirts and
Peechee folders, our hair a little too-styled – the Almost Rights.
We didn’t know it on the first day, but month or so later you’d
look around and the fashions had mellowed to a middle ground of
just clothes; folders held the same homework, regardless of the
maker; and of course, we all still overdid every hairdo every
morning, because that was our birthright as young teens. The
classes took second place to all the social stuff, and once we’d
gotten the hang of changing classrooms each period we were
pros.
High school meant the same social awareness as junior high, with
the added pressure of dating, dances and true love. We had crushes
and heartbreaks, best friends and bitter enemies, and groups that
defined us – Drama, Jocks, Popular, Stoners, Geeks – all the while
secretly thinking that somehow we didn’t quite fit in, no matter
where we were, and marveling at how everyone else seemed just
fine.
As if all this social juggling weren’t enough, we also had the
whisper of knowledge that The Rest of Our Lives was looming just
around the corner. We had assignments to complete, tests to study
for, credits to secure. We struggled through tough classes, cursing
the invention of algebra, geometry, calculus, Shakespeare, or
chemistry, depending on our own weaknesses. We made silent bets
with ourselves that if we could just finish this P.E. class, we’d
never run again in our lifetime unless something was on fire.
(What? Surely I wasn’t the only one doing that!)
After high school some of us went off to college, and some of us
didn’t. I always wished I could have gone – not for the parties,
but for the experience of dorms and the classes and the chance to
practice being a grownup while still getting to be something of a
kid. I never gave up on learning, though; each day I still discover
something new about the world, about myself, about life – and this
time of year I pore over the Back to School ads with that same
heady excitement, remembering the flutter of nervousness and
anticipation that marked the first day of school. The promise is
still there, all these years later— the thrill of a new year, a
blank slate, new chance to grow and learn and change for the
better. It’s in the air, everywhere you go… Back to School is here!
Hooray!
