After all the intense planning, interviews, teacher hires, painting parties and 'how the heck do we do this?" meetings over watermelon and potato chips, tomorrow is the first day of school. Those in the know say it takes eighteen months to launch a school. Experts tell you not to even try it. The Daniel Academy launches tomorrow six months after we dared to dream about it.
For the first time, I'll have 3 boys in school. Jackson - ever the pragmatist - is baking cookies for his teachers. Call it relational preventative maintenance.
Grayson is so excited that I'm not sure he'll sleep at all. His clothes are laid out next to his bed, his pencils are sharpened, and his name is written in his books. He was born for the classroom.
Zion, starting kindergarten, is rather cavalier about it all. This kid exudes a hipness that most rock stars only dream of attaining. "School? Whatever. I'll go and see what I think."
I vaguely remember my first day of kindergarten. We had more kids than desks, so some kids had shoe boxes. They were shoe box kids. I was a desk kid. That was about as high on the social ladder as I ever got - from there it went down hill fast.
I love that my boys (and eventually, my girl) will have an opportunity to have solid Christian teachers and attend with marvelous comrades who are going the same direction they are. I love that the other kids parents are standing on the wall next to us at IHOP. I love that we've been able to make the school crazy cheap by keeping expenses rediculously low. I love that I get to teach high schoolers' a weekly world view class in which I fully intend on bending their heads beyond what they can imagine.
This is going to be a great year. I hope I'm not a shoebox kid.