Yesterday was Julian's first day of second grade. I wanted to write these thoughts down last night after he and his brother went to bed. Instead, Julian sleepwalked into Zeke’s room (naked, for good measure) and woke Zeke up, and Zeke cried, and you get the idea until 11:40, when I woke up in a chair in Zeke’s room.

So, it’s today instead of yesterday, but it’s better late than never.

Only two of last year’s full-time grade-level teachers are back at Emerson, where Julian is starting his third year. The PE and music teachers and other support staff are mostly back, and most of the administration remains the same, but almost all of the full-time teachers left after last year, including some that had been there for some time. I’m still not sure what really happened or why, unless there’s no more story there than the one we’ve heard before about teachers fleeing challenging conditions at an under-resourced school.

“This is the differentest year I’ve ever had at Emerson,” said Julian. He thinks the massive turnover is connected to low pay and the teacher strike that started last school year. Two of his best in-school friends from the past couple years were no-shows on the first day as well and turn out to be enrolled someplace else. All this after waking up to get to school an hour and a half earlier than ever before thanks to the new bell schedule.

He also said they only got one long recess instead of the three shorter ones they had last year, and that as second graders they’re not allowed to sit down in the hallway if they’re waiting for the bathroom.

I was approached by a mom offering me an opt-out form. More on that later.

We’ll see. I’ve only exchanged a few words with my son’s new teacher, but she’s already spent the better part of two days with him.

It’s a strange, unnerving thing, in its way, to send your kids to school. Not that it isn’t exciting and liberating and all kinds of other things, but it takes a lot of trust to let go of that hand and just hope that the (in this case) woman caring for him during the day will treat him with respect and love.

He seems happy. Totally fine. But I wonder, what are her biases? What is the difference between how she consciously thinks of Julian and how she will unconsciously treat him. Or other kids in the class.

I think he’ll be fine. He’s doing great. But it’s a lot to think about.