Every year I am a little bit sad on that first day as my children go off to a new year
And yet, for all of the (perceived?) anguish that day has brought me over the years, there is surprisingly little residual trauma. Though it seems I’ve tried to block the memory of first-days-of-school from my conscious mind, a few stand out with ridiculously inconsequential details.
First day of school, September 1994. I don’t recall being nervous at all. I definitely woke up early, but I can’t remember if there were butterflies, jitters, or any other first-day-of-school anxieties.
I admit that it’s a bit odd that I remember what I wore, even now, 21 years later. It was a two-piece, pink-and-white checkered outfit. (Quit smirking; this was the ’90s! It was a lovely outfit, thank you very much.) Travel Buff Silk Reflections, Harve Benard beige pumps with the stacked heel from Loehmann’s.
This was not merely any first day of school. I went into the previous 16 first-days-of-school as a student. This would be the first “first day” that I was the teacher.
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