(Last week, we asked readers this question: “What do you miss most about going to school – and what do you miss least?” Here are the responses we received.)
Back to school! A friend posted a picture of her daughter on Facebook holding up her new organizer, indicating that she had actually started to cry with joy when she received it. Now that is the right attitude for going back to school.
But the phrasing of your question, “Who no longer labor under the label ‘student,’ ” says much about the common attitude toward school. I would like to propose that we never stop being a student.
One of the great joys in life is constant learning and expansion of knowledge. As I sat at the beach watching my grandchildren swim the other day, several of us were having some very deep conversations relaxing in our beach chairs. The sky was very clear, and someone asked a simple question: “How far can you see before the curvature of the Earth ends your line of sight?” Well, being a “student,” I picked up my smartphone. What a joy it would be to be still in the classroom and have access to the technology that is available today. The answer, you might wonder, is a little over 3 miles for a 6-foot-tall person at sea level. The higher you go, the farther you can see, and, yes, there are other science factors that impact the result. Pretty darn interesting, I think.
So, don’t ever stop being a student. Enjoy knowledge for the sake of knowledge, and share that knowledge, in a humble manner, whenever you can. We are all teachers, after all.
TIM KEEFE
Epsom
I miss the sensory experience of school more than anything. When I think back to elementary school, I feel that butterflies-in-the-belly sensation that accompanied me to the first day each year, and many subsequent days as well. I smell the cedar pencil shavings, the newly polished oxfords on my feet, the clouds of chalk dust arising from clapped erasers, the not-always-pleasant scent of freshly mimeographed handouts. The restless squirming of kids ready to be done with a lesson was audible, almost palpable, and the sound of the recess bell was joyful. That glint of a gold star on a corrected homework sheet still gives me a sense of exhilaration, while those big red X’s make my face flush.
It’s no secret that I loved school, but there were some things I don’t miss at all. Take riding the bus. Would I make it to the bus stop on time? Would there be someone friendly to sit next to, or would the only seat be next to a big kid or a bully? Did I forget my lunch or something for show-and-tell? At the end of my very first day of elementary school I couldn’t find my bus, and I was suddenly terrified that I would have to remain at school forever.
Homework was another hardship. Before we could do anything fun when we got home, I remember the tedium of what felt like piles of homework. I hated practicing penmanship in my copybook, or completing entire pages of boring arithmetic problems. I loved reading, but I thought having to answer questions about what I had just read was plain dumb.
School was all so new and serious to me as a child. But I felt safe, and cared for, both at school and at home. I didn’t imagine terrible things happening to me or my classmates, as children today imagine, with their bulletproof backpacks, peanut-free lunches and dire warnings not to talk to strangers. The media sources I was exposed to – a tiny bit of TV, a Weekly Reader, the school library – were curated by adults concerned about my welfare. What I miss most is that today’s kids don’t have that sense of security, that permission to be just kids, that I took for granted.
MILLIE LaFONTAINE
Concord