When I was a kid, I absolutely hated missing school. Not that I wanted to be at school every single day, but falling behind was the worst. Getting that packet of missed work that absolutely had to be done — every little bit of it — was an awful feeling. 

I’m the same way as an adult. 

I hate being behind on things. Take this blog for instance. I’d fallen into a decent pattern of posting at least weekly, but it didn’t last. Now I’m playing catch-up with things that have been drifting through the murky haze of my mind. Here’s a quick run-through of some of those things.

OPEN HOUSE
My school hosted an Open House about a week-and-a-half ago. I’ve loved Open House since 1st grade. I’d show my classroom, my teacher, and my friends off to my parents. I’d eagerly lead them to the wall where some of my work hung and explain in excruciating detail what the assignment was. And I’d drag them to the Scholastic Book Fair to buy as many Encyclopedia Brown books as I could beg out of them.

I don’t think we ever missed an Open House.

As a teacher, Open House isn’t a whole lot different. I’m still showing off my classroom and the work my students do. My mom and dad get to stay home now, instead of going to school, but I get shown off by my students to their family/caregivers. I get to watch my kiddos take their adults around the room, digging into the minutiae of the space we have created together. 

I got choked up as I watched one student spend nearly 20 minutes sharing everything on the classroom walls, and another as he proudly revealed to his dad that he’d been voted Champ of the Week by his peers. 

Last year — my first Open House as a teacher — was fine, but I wasn’t fully present as my wife’s 18-year old cat had died that morning. I was thinking about her and wishing I could be home to provide comfort. So I relished this year’s event, savoring each conversation and taking in as many side interactions as I could.

The biggest change in perspective that I’ve had as a teacher is the Scholastic Book Fair. We didn’t have one during Open House, and that was just fine. Last year, we had a book fair right at the start of the year, and as someone in charge of 16 kiddos, I was able to see the inequity that things like book fairs create. My parents never had much money, but they always made sure to set some aside because they knew I loved books. Not everyone can do that, though, and some students were clearly heartbroken by not being able to get books, posters, and other trinkets like their peers could. 

If we have a book fair this year, I’m going to make sure one way or another that all my students are able to get at least a little something. And book fair or not, I’ll make sure books go home with my kids to stay. 

I believe literacy is a human right, and a family’s income shouldn’t be a pre-requisite for access to books and reading at home.

SCHOOLHOUSE ROCK
I’ve been thinking a lot about the music I listen to in my classroom before and after school, during UAs, while my students are in the classroom, and in my car, on the way to and from school. 

Music is such a vital part of my day. It sets the mood, pushes me through, chills me out. And it connects me to my students. I don’t just play music in my classroom. I curate it. And I give space for my students to take the controls. 

For example, the kiddos and I were in a circle one morning a couple weeks back. I’d been talking about music and some of my favorite musicians. The talking piece was making its way around the circle, and each student was sharing a style of music or a favorite singer. 

The talking piece — a meditating Yeti that day — got to this one student. He’s a fairly by-the-books sort of kid, but he also knows how to have fun when it’s time. I wasn’t sure where we’d end up with him music-wise. I thought I had him pegged as maybe listening to ‘80s stuff like Journey or maybe modern pop. I was wrong.

He took the talking piece in his hand, looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully, grinned from ear to ear, and said, “Weird Al Yankovic.”

As a teacher, I work hard to avoid judgment about things that happen at home. We all have different values, and aside from abusive situations, it’s not my place to take action or place labels. But in that moment, seeing the pure joy on that student’s face, I thought to myself, “Now there’s a family that’s raising their kid right.”

I remember vividly the Saturday when I convinced Ma and Dad to take me to South Burlington to buy Dare to be Stupid, Weird Al’s 1985 album. It was released the first Tuesday of summer vacation after 5th grade, and the cassette was on sale at K-Mart. After the torturous, hour-long drive home, I played that tape over and over and over again on my little, portable boom box. To the point that my parents asked me to please take it outside.

The smile I had on my face that day … I saw that smile on my student’s face when he shared his favorite musician during our circle time. 

Music in the classroom is important. In the greater world, it connects us, and it will do the same between us and our students if we let it. 

A WILD MONTH AHEAD
Last Friday was a full moon. You know what that means if you’ve ever spent time in a school during that part of the lunar cycle. The two or three days leading up to it have an energy that is challenging at best. There’s another one coming on Saturday, Oct. 28. Three days after that is Halloween. And five days after that, we turn the clocks back. Also, this month has a Friday the 13th, not to mention a lunar eclipse the day after that. (Speaking of which, in April 2024, my school is smack-dab in the middle of a full solar eclipse.)

Last year on the day before the Hunter’s Moon in October, my meekest, mildest student — apropos of nothing — asked me, “Mr. Ethan, are you the King of Hell?” 

You can believe whatever you want to about all of this stuff, but I’m bracing myself for an interesting few weeks. I’ve been on my throne long enough to know when something is up.

In all seriousness, though, I hope you all have a fun, gentle October. It’s a magical time of year, and we all deserve to enjoy a bit of that.