Fisherman sweaters, wool skirts, brisk air, and football games all add up to one thing:  back-to-school.  The fall has always been my favorite season, and it’s as much tied up with the emotion of “new” as it is my love of the crisp weather and turning leaves.

For me, back-to-school often meant being the new girl, buoyed by my mom’s pep talks about all of the new friends and exciting opportunities that were ahead.  Mostly, she was right.  Whether it was North Carolina, Virginia or Pennsylvania, I always did make good friends, and we always had some exciting adventures, although my parents weren’t always so happy about those.  I think there were days (years?) when my mom would’ve kept me behind these bars if she could have!

But even though I eventually made new friends, it doesn’t mean the first day, week, or month was easy.  I can still hear my mom’s advice, so clearly, to “look people in the eye in the hallway and say hello.”  Ouch.  It was a lot harder than it sounds.

And sometimes, I wasn’t the new girl.  We usually stayed in one place for three years, which meant that for two of those, I already had friends.   Those beginnings were so much easier, so anticipated, fun even.  Middle school, of course, was painful no matter what. I had to call my friend Michelle to be sure we were wearing our matching jeans and Vans;  so lame, but I swear it’s true.  And we really did think we were so very cool.  My oldest son is approaching that age now, and when I think about how influential my peers were, how much what they thought mattered, it scares me to no end.  Please, Lord, let him have better judgment than I did.  I don’t want to have to wish him behind bars!

When I think back to all those years of fresh beginnings, new teachers, and new classrooms, I look at my boys and wonder what they’re feeling deep down inside.  They’ve lived here all of their school lives, and are happy to get back to the routine and see their old friends.  They don’t have that “who will I eat with in the cafeteria” trauma with which I was more than a passing acquaintance.  When they find out who their teachers are, they know them.  They know if they’re strict or funny or downright boring.  In all of these ways, my children have the advantage.  Quite often, I knew none of that.

And yet they haven’t had the experience of testing themselves, either.  I wonder if they know they can make new friends, no matter where they live.  I wonder if they know that looking people in the eye and saying “hello” really does work.  I wonder if they realize that there are so many cultures within our own borders that it’s downright astounding.  And I wonder if they’re sensitive to the new kids.  We’ve talked about it, of course.  I’ve made sure that they’ve heard it ad nauseam:  it’s hard to be new; try to remember their names; say “hello,” even if you’re not going to be best buddies.  And you never know.  Your future best buddy might be moving here right now; you better be nice to him!

Welcome back to school!

This post was written for a Parent Bloggers Network contest sponsored by Hanes.