Expectations

Every fall I have the opportunity to fall in love with school again.

I suppose it's become sort of an expectation of mine.

I have always loved school, but I have also always loved the feeling of falling in love with something. It's that newness--that feeling of everything being a "first time" and a shocking delight. When we fall in love we float, we daydream, we imagine what might become.

With a school year I still feel that way. The rebirth of possibility and ideas and relationships. Even the air seems to buzz with a coolly snapping crispness.

During these first weeks of school I like to articulate the expectations I have of my students. None of them have to do with performance, but all of them have to do with the relationship I'm developing with them. Things like honesty and communication and avoiding chronic tardiness are topics we discuss often.

But I also love that my students arrive with expectations of me. I love that they come in thinking they know what English class will feel like or how they will receive feedback.

And then I love surprising them. And I love being surprised by them.

Yesterday I slipped a student a handwritten note acknowledging their contributions to discussion and sharing how excited I was to teach them this year.

Later, the student returned.

"Mr. McDonough, I didn't expect that. Thank you so much for writing those words. It really means a lot. I am excited for the year."

I smiled, took the student's extended hand and replied,

"I didn't expect you to come back to thank me. Thank you."

May this be a year of exceeding the expectations--however lofty--others have for us, and of communicating deeply and meaningfully in ways that make people float, daydream, and imagine what might become.