There’s nothing like the first day of class. It can either go well, resulting in a splendid dippy excitement that lasts well into the following day, or it can go poorly, creating a suckage of the soul that’s far more permanent. I’m happy to say the former happened last night.
Why get so emotional about it? Maybe other teachers approach this differently, but I pour every bit of myself into my classes. I believe in the subject matter, and I desperately want my students to love it as much as I do. It’s tough when they don’t — and eventually you get over it on an individual basis — but that very first class is a true indicator of what’s to come.
When you do have a great first class — one where the students come in open-minded and ready to explore, willing to get a little crazy, willing to open the brown bags on the table and plunge into the mysteries inside (as we do, quite literally, in my class) — there’s simply nothing like it. It makes everything completely worthwhile.