by Kelly Keene
When I was a first-year teacher, the excitement of starting my first school year with my own classroom came with a side of stress and anxiety. The amount of work it takes to set up a new classroom from scratch, in a very limited timeframe, pressures most new educators to get their classroom keys early, and start work well before the first week really starts. I remember it like it was yesterday. I borrowed some money from my brother to buy my own school supplies (new teachers don’t typically receive their first paycheck until September or October), and went in early to get my classroom key. Well, “keys” as it turned out, because I did not have my own classroom my first year on the job. I had to travel between three different classrooms sharing space with other teachers I hadn’t yet met. It was awkward negotiating for space. Each room needed a place for me to store some minimal, basic supplies, and then I had to bargain with one teacher to let me have a desk in her classroom where I could sit quietly, grade and lesson plan. Every classroom had a different seating chart arranged by other teachers and their needs. It was awkward, and I ultimately missed out on valuable prep time, and time with students running from each room to the next throughout each school day.
But I was new. I was so grateful to even have a job, and ignorant of what I should expect, that I didn’t even know what was typically provided by the school, and what I had to find for myself. One custodian, after watching me struggle to use a student chair and desk as my own brought me an adult-sized office chair from storage. He was shocked when I tried to pay him for the chair. “All teachers get a chair,” he explained, and I almost cried from gratitude. That and the small plastic desk organizer he brought me a week later were all the school actually provided me. I had to figure out the rest.
Craigslist, and eventually Facebook Marketplace, became my search haven for classroom furniture like bookshelves, stools, and couches. When I did get my own classroom, I made my own posters, stealing famous quotes from my favorite authors and laminating them onto construction paper. It was a lot of work, but I loved taking the time to think through all classroom routines and systems. How could I design a space that would make learning interactive, comfortable, and fun? How would students turn work in? How would I pass out papers quickly? Where would I store books and pencils, markers and glue sticks?
When I was brand new to the job, I thought it all had to be carefully thought out before a single student arrived. Something as simple as using the restroom needed a pass, a sign-out sheet and a system that prevented students from missing too much class time but still gave them the freedom to attend to their bodily functions. That led me down a new train of thought: What would I do when a student broke the rules? What rules would we have in this new space? What school rules did I need a plan for and what norms of my own did I want to establish?
It felt like there was unlimited work to be done, but at some point, I had to just be ready for the school year to start, and accept that if it wasn’t all squared away the first week of school, I’d have plenty of time to tweak things and make adjustments as the year went on. Despite all the prep work, that first day went by in a blur. The first week raced by even faster. Once the students got there, the focus shifted away from the classroom, the furniture, and the supplies and toward what teaching is really about: the students. I’m thankful for that work I did put in though, because every start to a new year after that got easier and easier.
By the time I was a fifth-year teacher, my friends and I who had all started the same year celebrated. There’s a statistic that many people who try teaching give up by their fifth year. If you make it, chances are you’re in it for the long haul. At year five, all teacher induction programs are likely behind new educators. We’ve seen an odd school year or two, but we’ve also started getting the hang of the ebb and flow of Fall, Winter, and Spring. Instead of designing lessons from scratch, I was adjusting lessons I’d tried before. I supplemented my materials, but didn’t have to buy big batches of new supplies.
It was less stressful to show back up in August. Instead of learning a new gradebook system, or online classroom resources, many of the tools were familiar. So were the people. I knew the head custodian’s name and his schedule. I understood the temperament of the front office staff. I also knew, generally at least, what to expect when a new batch of bright youngsters walked back into school on that first day.
Once I had just one classroom to myself, I could design the layout of the desks and really hone in my own routine. I wanted to have a flow to the space that made it student-friendly and usable above all else. I also had the experience to know what was most immediate. Establishing a classroom community and building trust takes time, and intention during the first weeks of school. The first day is all about introductions. It’s about letting the students get to know their teacher, their classroom, their routines. Instead of jumping right in with benchmark assessments, I knew to slow down and get to know my students by name and learn about their interests. Earlier in my career, I rushed to tell the students all about my teaching philosophy, the grading policy, and which novels we would be reading. Now, I slowed down to take roll. I took notes when students clarified how to spell their name, and I made time to play games like a classroom scavenger hunt so students could compete in groups to explore the new space. I still introduced myself, but I also created time and space to let them introduce themselves to me.
These weeks were also important in establishing routines like visiting the library, journaling, and getting students to talk to their classmates. Benchmark assessments will come, and they matter too, but with five years under my belt, I finally figured out what I had to do, and what I could choose to prioritize. For example, administrators and colleagues got very excited about the syllabus. You have to have one, they said. Students expected them on the first day, and I thought I had to put every major assignment and reading on it before the school year even began. It is important to have a syllabus that outlines grading policies and the general expectations of the course on day one. But it’s also important to learn about students, consider what is relevant and adapt lessons to fit the needs of the time and class. I needed to know my students’ names and give them room to interview each other. I started saving letters former students wrote at the end of the school year, and giving them to my new students so they could learn about the course through the voice of former peers. My syllabus became secondary to building classroom community, and I haven’t looked back.
Starting a new school year is not just what I do to prepare though. Most schools have district, staff and department meetings to kick off the new year. There’s usually a few updates, but for the veteran teachers, the gist is routine. These meetings do set the tone though. How the district and admin choose to kick off the year matters.
I once started a school year, with a superintendent who outlined not two, not four, but twelve new initiatives for that school year. Principals scrambled to communicate the importance of all these goals to our staff, and us teachers felt overwhelmed with the weight placed on their shoulders. Instead of giving the district, school-site, or our department just one or maybe two clear goals all the initiatives got lost and only stressed me out even more.
Luckily, I’ve started to see the pattern that each new year will follow. On our first day back (before students arrive), the district typically asks the entire district with all teachers at every school-site (elementary, middle, and high school) to come together for a kick off speech from the superintendent. This might be followed or prefaced with a free breakfast on a good year. After the district-wide meeting, there are school-site meetings with the principal and site admin. Then, there are department meetings where we get to touch base with the colleagues we primarily collaborate with more regularly. Each of these meetings has a different scope and goal, but all of them simply provide a backdrop for the specific work that I needed to prepare for.
To cram all these meetings into one day, or even just a couple short days, can be a lot. It makes sense to come together after such a long summer break, but it can also feel like drinking information out of a firehose. It’s a lot to process all at once, and usually overwhelms me. The hardest first days I experienced as a teacher were the ones where meetings began immediately with expectations and new initiatives, before anyone asked how the staff was doing after the summer. How were all our summer breaks? What are we reading and thinking about now? How do we feel coming into this fall? These are great touchstones experienced administrators sometimes start with, to remind all of us that we are more than just an institution of learning, we are people who bring our whole hearts to the work that we do every year.
Some of the best things I’ve seen administrators do at the start of the school year include a slide show of summer photos that staff submit to update each other on the time away, and small moments of acknowledgement to celebrate milestones, birthdays, and accomplishments. Admin who begin the year by asking, “how can we support you?” score big points with their staff right off the bat. Another move that goes a long way is respecting teachers’ time. Keeping meetings brief, asking less, and giving teachers as much time as possible to meet back in their departments, and spend time working independently in their classrooms means the world at the start of the school year.
Last year, I started my tenth year of teaching. I cannot believe how far I’d come since my first August in the classroom. Instead of racing the clock to get everything done, I fight a bit more with myself to do less. I don’t do any work (including answering emails) until the first day back at work, and I enjoy my summer break as much as I can. There are always emails to answer, and they pile up over the summer. Colleagues, who have gotten a head start, start asking questions and offering advice. It’s nice that there’s a buzz of energy to build momentum for each new school year, but I’ve found that holding off, waiting, and setting a clear boundary with my most precious resource (my time) gives me the strength I need to do the best work I’m capable of. When I do get back on campus, I get my classroom is physically ready by arranging desks and setting out supplies. Then, I set up my electronic gradebook and put in some basic classroom community building lesson plans in for first day. I take time to update my slide show that tells my students a bit about what I did over the summer. I highlight the books I’ve read and the music I’ve listened to, as a way to get them sharing the same. Ultimately, I prioritize what’s important and try not to stress if it all doesn’t get done by the time students arrive on campus.
Now, I have confidence in myself that what really matters will happen, and the rest will fall into place once the rhythms of the new year get started. I even try to schedule fun after school activities for myself to do during the first two weeks of school. I book time with a non-teaching friend so we can have a nice outdoor meal. I drive to the beach after work and finish that romance novel I started the week before. Or, I go for an evening hike to separate myself physically and mentally from all the to-do lists and broken student desk chairs I can check off or fix. This is a golden window where grading hasn’t yet picked up, and I can remember that summer isn’t yet entirely over. Now that I’ve broken in that adult-sized office chair, I am a whole person going into the new year. I save time for myself, see my students as individuals, and try not to sweat the small stuff as much as possible.
August can be a very high impact month for teachers, but after a few years of building classroom routines, it doesn’t have to be. It can be a celebration, an opportunity to collaborate, and start the year off on a really positive note. Every August still feels like a beginning. I still straighten bookshelves, rearrange desks, and wonder whether I’ve forgotten something important. The difference is that I no longer believe everything has to be ready before the students arrive. The classroom doesn’t become a community because every poster is laminated or every lesson is perfectly planned. It becomes one because, day by day, people fill it. That’s something my first-year self couldn’t have known, but my tenth-year self finally understands.