Last night:

Honestly, I’m nervous again.

I know the routines, too. Sleep tight. Groom well. Come in with a tie. Introduce myself and the class I’m teaching. Announce names. Give out contact cards. Discuss the syllabus. Hope you don’t have a lot of time left over at the end. Leave without too much fanfare.

Yet, I can never shake the first day feeling.

I’m not scared of the kids. I just hope I can do right by them.

They’ve had a whole summer to forget the process of schooling, and the routines I’ll establish throughout the year. They haven’t

When I teach the students math, I know Harry Wong ain’t walking through that door.

This morning:

Red tie demonstrates power. Math class means I’m uses a grid-pattern white-collared shirt. 85°? No matter. It’s a new school year, and we have to be successful this year.

I glance at the class roster for the first time. Some of my students have siblings who I’ve taught before. Actually, some of them walked in with their siblings during parent-teacher conference.

My copies of the syllabus are ready, and so is my soliloquy.

After class (to self):

Fire drill on the first day? Come on. No matter. You kicked ass today. That’s 179 more days to go. 179 days to make it all work. Thank you, God.

Mr. Vilson, who hopes you like the new site …