Back to School

I just can’t change. 

Ever since I first went to the office supply store with my father to stock up for another school year, there’s always been an excitement that permeates the air when another school year is about to begin. Heat gives way to cool, and idleness turns to routine. I resist the temptation to wear a silly hat and blowing a horn, but Labor Day has always felt like New Year’s Eve to me. No matter how distant the school bell, I can hear it ringing in my soul, and I want to go buy number two pencils and color-coded notebooks. Once a student, always a student, I suppose. 

I just can’t change.

What if we stopped trying to fight it and let ourselves go back to school? I don’t mean the part of school where people get pushed down in the playground or deliberately not invited to sleep-overs, but the part when we enter a classroom, get a syllabus, and learn what we’ll be studying in class. Most people I know wish they could go back and learn what they didn’t, read what was assigned, and be who they weren’t. The grades to which people would return varies, but the hunger to do it again, to do it “right,” is a common desire for many, particularly at this time of year.

Since that’s impossible, I wonder if we can return in some other way. Can Labor Day continue to bring its magic and invite us into a new year? 

·     Can we commit ourselves to learning something new? 

·     Can we pick up a paintbrush or dusty instrument and play as if we were young again? 

·     Can we read one of the books assigned years ago, or return to one that took our breath away when we first read it? 

·     Can we write a Once Upon A Time story, the kind that used to make us sit up and pay close attention?

·     Can we play capture the flag or kick-ball once again?

Nothing’s stopping us - except jobs, kids, aging parents, countless bills, and weary bones - but maybe this Labor Day we can join those who are going back to school in some small way. Maybe we can still go to the office supply store, the art store, or nursery and buy something for the child hidden deep inside..

Who knows, we might find hidden talents, rediscover old passions, and walk through the Fall as if we’re children again.