First Day of School

For years, I took photos of our children heading off for the first day of school. First one, then there were two, and then three. One of my favorites has the morning sun slanting through the trees, slicing the scene as they traipse down the sidewalk.

I’m not sure how they felt about the picture taking, but certainly as they got older, they were more resistant, as it seemed babyish to do such a thing. They were harder to nail down in high school, and then all of a sudden they were leaving for college. I still sneaked a few in there, though I didn’t call attention to it being the first day of school picture.

Today was the first day of classes at the university where I work. A major road in town is all torn up, three lanes of traffic are forced into one at several points, there aren’t ever enough parking spaces anyway, and it’s always a crazy day without such distractions.

I always volunteer to work the Welcome Tables each year because it’s fun to help people and make them feel comfortable at a new school. We give directions, answer questions if we can or pull out our cell phones to call someone who may know the answer. We hand out day planners, campus information, lollipops, whatever it takes.

I did notice something new this year. Mothers accompanying their first year student children: a son, a daughter, it didn’t matter. Some call these people “helicopter parents” since they hover over their grown children, still shepherding them through life’s passages. We don’t see it as often as my colleagues in smaller liberal arts colleges, but they are here, too. Mothers will walk their five year olds to kindergarten, but eighteen year olds to college?

So here we go again--a fresh start for everyone, but probably no photos to capture the moment.