The Weight of August

The responsibilities of leadership don’t disappear overnight. Sometimes you don’t realize how much you’ve been carrying until you set them down.

This week, for the first time in twenty years (actually for the first time ever!), I’m not going back to school.

That sentence still feels strange to write.

For my first ten years in education, August meant I’d unlock my classroom, push desks around more times than I’d care to admit, hang fresh bulletin boards, sharpen pencils, and try to strike the perfect balance between the lessons I knew worked and the new ideas I couldn’t wait to try. Every school year felt like a fresh beginning, and I still miss that excitement.

Then back-to-school season changed.

My first summer as our district’s Director of Technology was the same summer our oldest son was getting ready for kindergarten. I was also pregnant with our youngest. Suddenly, I wasn’t preparing one classroom; I was helping prepare an entire district for 2,500 students.

Would every Chromebook be ready for distribution on day one? Were thousands of student and staff accounts created correctly? Had every class roster synchronized? Would teachers be able to log in? Would families have what they needed? What problem would inevitably appear at 7:45 on the first morning, and would we be ready for it?

At the same time, I was still doing everything every parent does.

• Buying school supplies.
• Finding the right shoes and new “school clothes.”
• Making sure backpacks were packed.
• Wondering if my own boys would have a great first day.

For the past decade, I’ve never known back-to-school season without carrying both responsibilities at once. Every checklist for my own family was accompanied by an even larger checklist for thousands of others.

I knew I was carrying that responsibility, but I don’t think I fully understood its weight until this year. This week feels completely different.

We have time to focus on our own family. The school supply lists are complete. The clothes fit. The backpacks are packed. Instead of mentally running through district readiness plans, I’ve been looking forward to our own little traditions: dinner at our favorite local Mexican restaurant the night before school starts and cinnamon rolls on the first morning. For once I’ll enjoy that dinner without worrying about 400 staff members and 2500 students.

Don’t think for a minute that I won’t still be thinking about the district. I’ll wonder whether the Chromebooks were distributed smoothly. I’ll hope the networks stay up, the rosters sync correctly, and teachers and students get the calm first day they deserve. Twenty years in education doesn’t disappear overnight. But this year, those worries belong to someone else. Mine belong to three boys.

When you’re a classroom teacher, you carry a classroom of students.

When you’re a principal, you carry an entire school.

When you’re a district leader, you carry every school, every classroom, every staff member, and every student within them.

The weight doesn’t suddenly become heavier. It accumulates so gradually that you stop noticing you’re carrying it.

Then one day, when you’re no longer carrying it, you realize how much of your mind and heart it had quietly occupied.

To every teacher putting the finishing touches on a classroom, every technology department checking one more integration, every transportation, food service, custodial, maintenance, office, and district team making sure students can walk through the doors ready to learn: thank you. I know the weight of August.

I’ll always love the magic of a new school year, but tonight, we’ll keep our tradition of eating at our favorite local Mexican restaurant. Tomorrow morning there will be cinnamon rolls before backpacks are slung over shoulders, a few pictures are snapped, and one more first day begins.

For the first time ever, those are the only first days I’m responsible for, and I can’t wait to hear how their day went.