Today was our annual open house for students and their families. Always held on the Thursday before school starts, the event is usually very well attended by sixth graders, who are new to the school. In recent years, we have opened it up to all students, which especially made a lot sense last year, when many 7th and 8th grade students had either been away from the building since March of 2020, or never even been here at all.
For me, this was my 30th open house; 29 in person and one virtually. The format has varied over the years. For a very long time, we held ours in the evening to accommodate working families, but that changed about 10 years ago. Since then, the hours have shifted from late afternoon, to midday, to morning, which it was today.
At nine a.m. all homeroom teachers poured out the building holding signs with their names aloft. After that, it was on the kids and their folks to match the name with the one they got on their welcome letter. Over the next 15 minutes or so, 11 of the 16 students assigned to my advisory found their way over, and we headed into the building while their parents attended an orientation in the theater.
I must confess that I am always nervous to meet the new students. Despite years of experience to the contrary, I dread the possibility of some unpleasantness. It's almost like that dream where you realize you have a test that you're not ready for, but in reverse. Every year I realize again that I'm totally ready.
After a fun 45 minute get-to-know-you session, it was time to say good-bye until Monday. "Enjoy your last few days of summer!" I said. "You're kind of lucky, you know. My summer ended last week."
"It did?" asked someone in alarm.
"Yes," I nodded, "teachers have been working since last Thursday." Then I shrugged. "But it all kind of seems worth it, now that you guys are here!"
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