The University Within, Pt. 1

Today in Baltimore, it’s the first day of school. 

I prepared breakfast and routinely looked out the window to watch the busloads of kids walk off into the school building and the parents making drop offs. It’s a radiant morning. A big blessing for the kids because they don’t have to be subjected to construction workers making constant noise during their studies, like we did throughout the summer. Thank Spirit for the peace after the storm. Thank Spirit the streets got in order for these children. 

It’s one of my favorite rituals, the first day of school. I ain’t got no children, but there’s something joyful about watching the students begin another semester. When I stepped out with my coffee and quinoa (yes, I had quinoa this morning), the autumn winds teased as the buses and cars kept coming. And I take part in it because the first day of school signals the beginning of a new year, a way that differs from New Year’s Day. It’s about getting the mind back to work. And for a moment, I felt sympathy for these children already gathered in the school.

Plenty changed during the summer. Plenty changed for them. And quite possibly, things changed in the school. Things have changed in the world, the city. There are anxious, curious souls with questions and determinations about what’s going to happen next, what this year will be like for them, if anything else will be threatened, or come apart. 

They are wondering. They are questioning. They are scared as much as they are excited. 

This time of the year also marks the 8th time I’ve witnessed different classes of students come into this school. And I realized some of the ones I’ve seen have likely already graduated college. 

I see myself in them, the frustration of having to get up early, the worry. For some, there’s the performance of confidence, the fatigue from a long commute before 9 am. But you know what I also see? What they reflect back to me? Every single one of them has a strong sense of freedom and individuality. This particular school next to my house encourages that. 

Freedom and individuality. 

They may be the students, but they teach. They teach me. And I hope they teach some other people in the neighborhood. They are leading the way. 

The student in me is happy about that, the student in me who experienced 15 first days of school which ranged from happiness to misery. 15 different students have gathered in my body, enjoying quinoa and coffee to tell the student I am now… “It’s the first day of school. Even for you.”