First day back: Going to a real school is a gift

Kids' anticipation reminded me of Christmas, writes Suzanne Westover.

If a silver lining has emerged from this pandemic, it's the wave of appreciation for bricks-and-mortar education I've seen sweeping across my daughter's generation.

Access to education has never been a question. But this year, the back-to-school experience was infused with a sense of anticipation usually reserved for Christmas Eve.

The night before the first day, we were labelling headphones, shoes and pencil cases with the same meticulous care we'd normally reserve for wrapping gifts. Instead of poring over a list filled with her heart's desire, my daughter ran a careful finger down the class requirements, dutifully rejecting her pocket-sized mermaid hand sanitizer when she read the “unscented” caveat.

The same attention to detail was channelled into choosing classroom snacks. A child in my daughter's class has an anaphylactic peanut allergy, so we examined all the granola bars, crackers and fruit snacks, with only those boasting the “no nut” symbol deemed acceptable.

There has always been a heightened anticipation around the first day of school, but in past years, the focus has been somewhat superficial. What to wear? Will I have friends in my class? What days will I have gym?

This year, something has shifted. The trappings aren't the focus. The going is.

In past years, my daughter has marched out of the gate less than thrilled about this, that, or the other thing.

But this year, despite sitting masked and distanced, the consensus was overwhelmingly positive. Almost reverent.

There was a time when not being placed with friends would have been disastrous. This year, my daughter is so grateful everyone isn't in a little box on a screen that making new connections seems not only feasible, but welcome.

When she walked into the class and spotted a poster that said, “Hogwart's wasn't hiring, so I'm teaching Muggles instead,” my daughter felt immediately at ease.

This nod to Harry Potter gave her a sense of comfort and belonging that's almost impossible to replicate in a virtual setting.

Even with weighty protocols, like standing in line while each child hand-sanitizes before recess, there is a sense of normalcy that only the routine of in-person school can bring.

Standing at the gates with fellow parents, I watched their furrowed brows slacken with relief as one after the other, kids came hurtling out of the yard, faces masked but eyes smiling. For the first time in 18 months, my daughter raced from her classroom to tell me something new. Having news to share, hot off the press, after so much sameness was joyous for both of us.

School is so much more than the delivery of a curriculum. It's a place of belonging. It's an arena to ask questions and make mistakes, to make friends and solve problems.

It may only be truly possible to appreciate the constants in our lives when we're in threat of losing them — or they are taken away.

School, once a given, is now, suddenly, a gift.