I assume pretty much everyone reading my posts has attended some school. I realize not everyone can claim the honor of having been a student, employee or teacher in a school system of some sort each year for the past 41 years (there, Mom and Dad, let that sink in) but you all can probably recall the terrible and wonderful mix of emotions as you sit in your home, about to go to the first day of class in a new school year. It’s a strange brew of feelings that, while attenuated with time, is still present even among old, cynical types.
Today, my students can add to the mix the anxiety that comes with taking their first class in a foreign language and, if the group chat be trusted, wondering just where in the hell the classroom is for their 8:30am class. Their professor, on the other hand, is wondering where his notes are and where the hell the classroom is for his 3:30pm class.
I mentioned over the weekend that the students spent most of their Saturday in the police station trying to get something – I’m not clear what – related to their visas processed. It turns out the number of students to be processed was up significantly this year and, so, despite the police increasing their capacity, they didn’t keep up with the increase. The big news was that they made the paper. There was a nice piece in a local paper that features several of the Wake students as well as some of the American University students.
We go now to a day filled with wonder, anxiety and opportunity. And, hopefully, coffee.