The First Day of School

Tears running down faces, confused screams of fear and agony, genital promises of return and brave new teachers. This is what you typically expect during the first day of preschool, but when Braydon and I slowly opened the heavy door separating the beginning of education from the continuation of it, we steeped into an unexpectedly happy and exciting world.

Braydon was eager to get started. After all, this was finally the day mom had been talking about for months. I asked him to wait while I signed him in so we could say a proper goodbye. He listened and, already, the dread I felt on the drive over started to disappear. As he lightly touched my leg, I situated the sign in process and asked the front desk person a few questions. As soon as the preschool director came around the corner and asked Braydon if he was ready to start school, he looked up at me bright eyed and full of wonder, waiting for a sign that it was OK to go. Without hesitation, as soon as I said "go ahead," he was off. I managed to get a hug and a kiss after I was finished at the front desk and then headed out for the beginning of my own adventure.

Elements of Intercultural Communication was to be the first class of my college education. May as well start with the hardest sounding class, right? In my previous job (well, the last one for which I actually worked in an office and cared about at the same time) I was responsible for a great deal of communications with businesses overseas. I've witnessed first hand the difficulty you can face during intercultural communication if you have little knowledge of the other culture. I have also seen how well you can work with someone of a completely different background and language if you both exhibit patience, understanding and a desire to learn about each other. As soon as I saw this class on the list of options for a certain portion of my required credits, I knew I had to take it. The teacher is amazing. Our first class was simple, as is generally expected, but I can see a depth to this woman, who has actually stood in the midst of other cultures and speaks an undetermined amount of different languages (we've heard a remark in Cantonese and I am sure there will be more). A great start to a day I've been looking forward to for years.

Forty-five minutes absorbing the excruciating sun of Arizona was not the happiest point of my day, but I was on a college campus watching myself do something that I never thought I'd actually get around to doing. I couldn't have been happier. The unbearable heat that I usually complain about suddenly seemed tolerable.

Right around the corner from my first class was the Intro to Art History class I'd signed up for. I have always been interested in art, of all mediums, but have never had the time or a strong enough desire to actually focus on learning about it. The teacher of this class is young and an artist himself. Though he seemed a bit nervous speaking in front of the class, he has experience and clearly knows what he's doing there. I'm interested to learn more about the subject, as well as our instructor, but a bit nervous about the actual drawing we will apparently be doing. Interest I have, skill, however, I lack.

When I picked Braydon up after the art class, he was eating a snack and it was a huge struggle to get him to actually leave school. Aside from the extreme failure that was his bedtime routine that night, Braydon did very well with school. He loved it and hasn't stopped asking about going back. It'll take a while to get him used to the idea of going, then coming home, then GOING TO SLEEP, and starting all over again the next day. So far, I'm ecstatic that he wasn't terrified of leaving me in the morning and that he seems to be soaking up and enjoying the nectar that is education.