School

This morning I took my daughter to her first day of school. She was excited and I don’t think she was even aware of the lashing rain and howling wind we had to journey through.

My first day of school was not a great or exciting day for me. I loved being at home or playing close to it. I did not want to be forcibly taken away to spend most of the day surrounded by people I didn’t chose to be with in a place I didn’t chose to be in. I expected school to take me away from what I really valued. So, on my first morning I got up and hid under my bed, giving my poor mum even more trouble than she needed. Then, when deposited in the classroom, I burst into tears, desperate to go home again.

Within minutes, of course, I had settled in and made a friendship that survives to this day. But, deep down, I still understand that feeling. To leave home in the morning is to be pulled away from what I love. Don’t get me wrong, I love to travel and meet new people. It’s just that a happy home is more attractive than a workplace. If I had the imagination to make my home my workplace I’m sure I would.

My daughter, meanwhile, gazed upon the busy schoolroom and was gone. No backward glance, no tears, not even a wave goodbye. That, I suspect, bodes well for the future.