I killed time until the bell rang at 8:30. The moment of truth. I took my place in the hall outside the door, along with the other teachers, and tried to look as calm and in charge as they did. “Good luck!” Gale whispered before the tidal wave of small bodies began surging down the hall. Their little faces looked along the wall at the room numbers which identified their new classrooms, and the eyes that finally landed on me spoke volumes: Who are you? I wondered if they could tell I was thinking the same question.

Finally the bell rang to signal the beginning of class. I stood and walked to the door, kicking out the doorstop and taking a deep breath as I closed myself into the room with my new charges. I walked back to the front of the room and forced myself to smile, even though my cheeks hurt already. “Well hey, everyone!” The chatter died down as students ended their conversations and turned in their seats to face me. “Well hey, everyone”? Great opening line, I chided myself. I mentally commanded myself to look confident as I launched into my introduction. Roll call followed, then class rules and a get-to-know-you game. I supervised them as they raced around getting signatures for classmate bingo, and I suddenly realized, “This is my class. These kids are mine for nine months. I’m a teacher!”

By the end of the day, I’d managed to cover everything I’d wanted to. I didn’t seem to have made any enemies yet, which was a good thing. I walked them down to the front door and out to the circle drive where buses and cars waited to usher them home. I waved and smiled as they walked past me to wherever it was they were going, and once they were all gone I went back to my room where I shut the door, put in a Mozart CD, and literally lay on my back on the front table, legs dangling off the edge, and stared at the ceiling in a daze. I’d made it through the first day of school, no war injuries yet, and my brain was still functioning. All in all a very good day.

The quarter moved quickly and, thankfully, smoothly as well. After about a month we had a good routine down in the classroom, and my stomach no longer fluttered when I stood before the whole class to teach. They were all really great kids, and I knew I was lucky to have been blessed with such a relatively easy group my first year. I kept the women in my small group in stitches with stories about things the students did.