When I was really little, my summers were lovely puffs of inactivity. Sometimes there was camp, always there was the pool, frequently there were naps. My life during the summer months was carefree and slow-paced. Sadly, every summer inevitably worked its way toward that one horrible day of dread and misery of impending doom, the first day that “Back To School” wares went on sale in grocery and pharmacy stores across the country.
Sometime toward the end of July, stores spewed forth pencils, spiral-bound notebooks in colorful wrappers, the store walls pocked with posters covered in lots of exclamation points, trying to convince mopey kids that “Back To School” is actually the greatest thing ever as opposed to the worst thing in all eternity. [You know how some kids can’t wait to get to get back to school, play with their friends, and learn? Yea, not me]. I vividly remember the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach of, “Oh no, here we go again!” The day seemed to come earlier and earlier each summer, mercilessly tying my stomach into knots.
That time is here again. The notebooks and binders are back on the shelves and they are louder than ever, festooned with even more exclamation points and fuchsia splotches than I remember. I seriously doubt, however, that going back to school after a whole summer is any more pleasant now than it was then.
Walking past shelves loaded with school supplies gave me a brief hit of nostalgia (not for school, but for really empty summers), which was quickly tempered by the realization that I am all grown up. There is no pretending any more. While in grad school, I could still call myself a student (even as I was pushing thirty – eek). Because I didn’t have a real job, I could pretend to have little responsibility and to be free from the pressures of the real world. It was still school, after all.
I am not a student any more. It feels like the pressures and expectations I experienced while in school, shifted or intensified upon my graduation. Instead of musing about what I am going to be when I grow up, I have to actually figure it out and make it happen. Now it’s for real, it counts. Did this year’s “Back To School” day make me miss being a student? Sure. Did I feel relieved that my schooling days are behind me? Certainly. Have I figured out what I am going to be when I grow up now that I am grown up? I’ll have to get back to you on that.
P.S. I really wanted to take a picture of the shelf at the grocery store, but I got the strange impression I would be asked to leave rather promptly. Something about taking photos of kids supplies didn’t sit well.
Last updated:
Monday, 11 Aug
2008 - 20:16 UTC
I never liked going to back to school either, but there was something enticing about buying all of those school supplies. All those nice, new pencils and pens and packets of notebook paper.
Anna, I was such an incurable geek that I actually liked going back to school. I saw the back-to-school displays in Safeway last week on holidays and got a bit misty-eyed. My British companion had no idea how all those pencils and notebooks could be so evocative for me. Do you remember buying all the clothes too, and wearing everything new on your first day?
But I’m really happy not to be a student now, even though I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. They never told us it would be a continuum, not a final destination.
I can’t really remember whether I liked it or not – except one year where I (and everyone else in the class) feared going up a year because we were due to have the most fearsome teacher in the school as our form master. I hated that summer.
One kid, first day back, dived under a table instead of walking round, just as the Dread Mr Flanagan walked in. He bellowed, and one of the girls burst into tears.
Thing is of course, he turned out to be the best teacher ever, and we were all sad to leave by the end of that year. All a matter of perspective.
I did forget that part. Buying cool new stuff did temper the pain of having to go back to school. But only a little.
Jenny – I was a stupendous geek, which is why I hated going back to school. Social interactions were not my forte when I was younger, unlike, cough, now. Ha. I do remember taking a week to plan my first day outfit. That was absolutely crucial.
Richard – That’s quite a story. I remember having a lot of terrifying teachers in Russia, but I think they select them to be terrifying. They never turned out to be anything but [expletive]. It was really a different style of teaching than in the States, one more similar to the UK and Europe in general, I would imagine. There was a lot of shaming and putting kids on the spot. A lot of memorization and recitation in front of the class. Ugh, I still remember having to solve math problems in front of everyone in third grade. A lot of jeering and put-downs from the teachers as well (of six and seven year olds!!). Now that I think about it, I am no longer surprised by my distaste for school. It kind of makes sense.
I liked some parts of school, but hated most of it. And I didn’t even get the whole new clothes experience – my uniform might have occasionally been new, but it still looked the same as last year’s! The new shoes were always nice though.
I love(d) back to school supplies! The Dutch department stores always go way overboard with their supplies, compared to anything I’ve seen in any other country. One store usually has an entire floor devoted to their back to school stuff. (Potential Dutch readers will know that I’m talking about the V&D department store.) And there were always about a hundred different kinds of year planners (diaries) and it was very important that you got the right one. One year, when I was 12, I got one with pictures of cats – that was obviously not the right one…