Back to School

Most schools are back in session, and if they’re not, they will be soon. It’s an exciting time of the year. I think most kids like school, not because of their love of knowledge, but because they want to be with their friends. It’s all about socialization.

Ruth wasn’t a fan of going back. She liked working with the kids but hated, and I mean hated, all the administrative things that she had to deal with. She despised keeping records, filling out forms, completing her annual classroom inventory, begging for money to operate her program, and when electronic grading made the scene, that put her over the top.

One year she tried an experiment. She made each student accountable for all their assignments, including assessing their own work and assigning a grade. She was the first teacher I knew to use a rubric to assess her students’ work. They were stunned to have such responsibility but accepted the challenge. If she were around, she’d tell you that most students were more critical of their work than she would have been. That was one of her best years.

I was thinking about my first days and came up with several memories.

After being hired in Plainwell, I wanted to be sure I was ready for the first day of school, so I entered the names of each student in my grade book before the kids reported for their first day. It was 1969 and everything was recorded by hand. I printed each name very carefully. I was meticulous. Each page was beautiful.

I discovered my error when the students reported. Several had moved away, and even more had recently enrolled. My preparation was a total failure. I had recorded each class list in ink and alphabetical order. What a waste. When I asked for a new grade book so I could start over, my request was denied. Lesson learned.

My first year included several sections of 7th grade English and two sections of geography. After outlining the goals for our study of geography I asked, “Has anyone ever been to a foreign country?” A petite young girl raised her hand, and I asked where she had gone. “Kentucky.”

That’s the moment I knew I was in for an entertaining year.

I was hired to be the elementary school principal in Addison on August 16, 1977, three weeks prior to the opening of school. I’d stay through the week and go back to Kalamazoo on the weekends to join Ruth, six-month-old Elizabeth, and two-and-a-half-year-old David. I worked twelve-hour days Monday – Thursday so I could head back by noon on Friday. Ruth came over a day each week so we could look for a house.

During the week prior to the opening of school, a young boy, Freddie, enrolled as a second grader. Freddie lived in town, so he’d be a “walker”. He walked to school each day that week, stopped into the office to say hello, and then he went out to the playground and hung out there for an hour or two.

On opening day Freddie was at school before I arrived. He was standing in the hallway just outside my office all decked out in his new school clothes. He told me he didn’t want to be late, so he came early. He’d been there every day and was the only student I could call by name.

I asked if he was excited, he said “yes”, and I said, “me too”. We were both about to experience our first day in our new school. When the opening bell rang, Freddie started to cry. It wasn’t just a little sob, he wailed and wailed. I asked what was wrong and he said, “I’m scared.”

I put my arm around him and said, “I’m scared too, but everything’s gonna be OK. I’ll walk you to class.”

I held his hand as we walked to Miss Perkins’ room. She was a seasoned veteran devoted to her students. As I introduced Freddie, I told her he was new to our school and a bit nervous. She embraced him, pulled him to her chest, gave him the biggest hug I’ve ever seen, and said, “We’re going to have a great year.” She was right.

My first day as superintendent in Britton-Macon was November 4, 1991. I was living at Lake LeAnn and had a thirty-five-minute drive each way. My only concern about my new job was the snow days. I’d have to be up around 4:00 each morning to make the drive to help check the roads.

That first morning I stood in the hallway shoulder to shoulder with Gary, the transportation director, watching the kids arrive. As they entered, I broached the topic of snow days and checking the roads. Gary was quick to respond. “You don’t have to worry about that. I do it all.”

He went on to explain how he monitors the weather, talks with the road commission, neighboring districts, and Don, the Director of Transportation of the Lenawee County Intermediate School District. “After I check with all of them, I’ll call you with what I know, and you make the decision. If we close, I’ll start making the calls to the radio stations and staff. We have a phone chain for staff.”

It sounded pretty straight forward and relieved many of my concerns.

About six weeks later, Ruth got a phone call around five in the morning. Adrian Public Schools were closed. I got up, turned on the radio, and heard a list of three or four county schools that had closed. I listened as I dressed, and the list grew longer. I called Gary at his home, but didn’t get an answer. I called Don at the ISD to see if he’d heard from Gary. He hadn’t.

I followed that call with a call to The Village of Britton’s maintenance supervisor. Jim and Gary were close and shared coffee each morning. I asked Jim if he’d seen Gary. He hadn’t. Then I asked about the roads. “They’re bad and getting worse.”

I called Don back and said, “Don we’re closing.” And then he said, “You’re the last one.”

I called the radio stations, and while making those calls, I received one from Gary. He had overslept. To be fair, he never overslept again.

Firsts of any experience are a big deal. Many stick in your brain as either a good or bad thing.  You may not recognize it at the time, but that’s one of the ways we make memories, and some are worth sharing.