Tell Someone Else's Story: Day 6
How might it feel to be a kid going back to school in these times?
We’ve made all the usual preparations for back to school. The new backpack, filled with school supplies. My first day of school outfit is picked out (I tried it on enough times that I had to wash it again yesterday), I know exactly how I’ll be doing my hair and makeup – I’ve been practicing my new look all summer.
I can’t wait to see my friends.
Will I recognize them with face masks on? Will I be safe going back to school? What are classes going to be like? Will I like my new teachers? Will I get good grades this year?
I anxiously go to bed the night before the first day, so many questions swirling through my head that it’s difficult to fall asleep, but eventually I must fall asleep because my alarm is already going off, signaling the arrival of the new day.
I rush to the bathroom before my younger sister and brother can get there. After a shower I put on my new look. Try on the mask that my mom made for me, check myself out in the mirror before pulling off the mask and shoving it into my backpack.
Mom still makes us take first day of school pictures on the front porch, so we all line up after breakfast. A few photos later and I’m ready to walk my sister and brother to their elementary school on my way to high school.
We all put on our masks and head out the door.
As we approach the elementary school, I’m surprised at how different the mood is. Though there’s definitely some of the regular excitement, outbursts and rekindling of friendships, there’s also a scared look in some of the eyes of the teachers, parents and some of the older kids, especially. I lead my siblings through the hand sanitizing station and to their classrooms (no more playing on the playground together until the bell rings). Their desks are spread apart as best as the teachers could arrange, and they’re asked to sit in their assigned seats with some coloring sheets until class starts. I give them each a squeeze and head towards my school.
At the high school, it’s hard to recognize anyone, but I do find some of my friends. We hug (are we supposed to?), and talk about our summers for a few minutes, before an adult tells us we need to keep moving, keep our distance, and head to our first period classes.
In my math class, the desks are spread apart, and the teacher is at the front of the room, behind her desk. Her desk has one of those plastic see-through shields on it, like they have at the grocery stores. I wonder if she’ll be staying behind that this whole school year. Will I be able to hear her okay? I see her mask moving, but I can’t hear what she’s saying. The other kids that are already in class signal to me that I should take the next available seat towards the front of the class (not where I usually like to sit). Almost everyone has on their masks, but a few kids have them pulled down so their noses are showing. My mom made sure I knew this was not the way to wear my mask, but a little relief of fresh air would be nice. Not sure how fresh the air really is in the classroom.
The windows are open – I assume to get more fresh air into the room – but it’s warm outside, and the air conditioning is on.
The bell rings, and only half of the desks are full. Looks like only ten kids in my class. I wonder if people are late?
The teacher, Mrs. McConnell, tells us to get our chromebooks out while she makes sure the students at home are signed in and active on the classroom meeting. She spends most of the class period telling us about how “We’re all going to have to work together to make this school year a success”, and goes over a huge list of safety precautions she wants us to take in addition to the huge handbook we got from the school outlining the school’s safety measures (that my mom made me read and summarize for her over the last week).
This school year does not seem like it’s going to be fun. At least I only have to be in class two days a week, especially if this is how it’s going to be.
We’ve made all the usual preparations for back to school. The new backpack, filled with school supplies. My first day of school outfit is picked out (I tried it on enough times that I had to wash it again yesterday), I know exactly how I’ll be doing my hair and makeup – I’ve been practicing my new look all summer.
I can’t wait to see my friends.
Will I recognize them with face masks on? Will I be safe going back to school? What are classes going to be like? Will I like my new teachers? Will I get good grades this year?
I anxiously go to bed the night before the first day, so many questions swirling through my head that it’s difficult to fall asleep, but eventually I must fall asleep because my alarm is already going off, signaling the arrival of the new day.
I rush to the bathroom before my younger sister and brother can get there. After a shower I put on my new look. Try on the mask that my mom made for me, check myself out in the mirror before pulling off the mask and shoving it into my backpack.
Mom still makes us take first day of school pictures on the front porch, so we all line up after breakfast. A few photos later and I’m ready to walk my sister and brother to their elementary school on my way to high school.
We all put on our masks and head out the door.
As we approach the elementary school, I’m surprised at how different the mood is. Though there’s definitely some of the regular excitement, outbursts and rekindling of friendships, there’s also a scared look in some of the eyes of the teachers, parents and some of the older kids, especially. I lead my siblings through the hand sanitizing station and to their classrooms (no more playing on the playground together until the bell rings). Their desks are spread apart as best as the teachers could arrange, and they’re asked to sit in their assigned seats with some coloring sheets until class starts. I give them each a squeeze and head towards my school.
At the high school, it’s hard to recognize anyone, but I do find some of my friends. We hug (are we supposed to?), and talk about our summers for a few minutes, before an adult tells us we need to keep moving, keep our distance, and head to our first period classes.
In my math class, the desks are spread apart, and the teacher is at the front of the room, behind her desk. Her desk has one of those plastic see-through shields on it, like they have at the grocery stores. I wonder if she’ll be staying behind that this whole school year. Will I be able to hear her okay? I see her mask moving, but I can’t hear what she’s saying. The other kids that are already in class signal to me that I should take the next available seat towards the front of the class (not where I usually like to sit). Almost everyone has on their masks, but a few kids have them pulled down so their noses are showing. My mom made sure I knew this was not the way to wear my mask, but a little relief of fresh air would be nice. Not sure how fresh the air really is in the classroom.
The windows are open – I assume to get more fresh air into the room – but it’s warm outside, and the air conditioning is on.
The bell rings, and only half of the desks are full. Looks like only ten kids in my class. I wonder if people are late?
The teacher, Mrs. McConnell, tells us to get our chromebooks out while she makes sure the students at home are signed in and active on the classroom meeting. She spends most of the class period telling us about how “We’re all going to have to work together to make this school year a success”, and goes over a huge list of safety precautions she wants us to take in addition to the huge handbook we got from the school outlining the school’s safety measures (that my mom made me read and summarize for her over the last week).
This school year does not seem like it’s going to be fun. At least I only have to be in class two days a week, especially if this is how it’s going to be.
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