We all know that there is poetry in starting a new notebook: the neatness of it all, the blank sheets of paper eager for our words, our pictures and our scribbles, and that there is magic in opening a new book: the smell of fresh ink, the pages spotless and unrumpled.
I have vivid recollections of the earnest preparations to go back to school after the summer recess as a child. My father sharpening our colour pencils (there was not always money for the new box befitting the newness of the schoolyear) and polishing our shoes (tennis shoes were not allowed at that time). Our mother ironing the pinafores and covering our brand new notebooks. Many of us were lucky enough to have gone through the glorious age of compulsory “papel araña azul plastificado”? and the forever prim and proper “señoritas maestras” As a teacher (and I was one for 42 years! ) I always felt some sort of wild and bizarre anticipation about walking into an unknown classroom and meeting dozens of unfamiliar faces and, in some years, the excitement of teaching a new syllabus or a new book.
All in all, I still think that going back to school and starting to teach a new class will always be, for us teachers at heart, like starting a new dream.
There is no way out, as teachers it is our responsibility to put our best effort to make this (and all school years) a dream year for ourselves and those still unfamiliar faces that expect so much from us (even if they will never openly confess that they do). We know we can.
Dr. Omar Villarreal
Editor