Julie Helen: Back-to-school nerves emerge as we near September

As the days tick down to the return of school, I am beginning to realise that I am nervous about going into first class.

Of course, it is not me going into first class; my beautiful son is, and he hasn’t expressed any real worry, just that he would like to have more time in the summer. We have had a good time together, a mix between scheduled summer camps and slow mornings that slip by and it’s evening time before we know it.

The new school uniform arrived in the door this week. It’s sportswear that is crested. It’s so far from the cable knit jumpers my Nana Lil used to make especially for me, each panel with a different pattern, or the pinafores my Mum used to carefully turn up to the perfect length. You won’t have to go too far back in my catalogue of stories to find me preaching about how kids should be allowed to wear tracksuits all the time while in school. I stand by that opinion, but I am not sure I meant an expensive one we can only buy in certain windows of time or from only one supplier hours away from us. At the beginning of the process, it feels like a lot. We have a transition period where we can also buy the generic blue and navy for two years, a sort of phasing approach. That is sensible for sure. The thing is, the children are likely to be delighted with the new sets; I just hope the cost isn’t putting a lot of families under pressure. A uniform is supposed to be a leveller, not something that divides us.

I have been reflecting on why I am a bit nervous about Ricky starting first class. The uniform is definitely a factor. Then I realise that I clearly remember starting first class. My aunt was my teacher, and I was really excited about that. Through the jigs and the reels of the year, we had a lot of substitute teachers, and I remember there being a huge jump in the learning we were expected to do. I remind myself that school is entirely different now, over 30 years later.

The feeling of not really fitting in is still visceral for me. At that time, I couldn’t put words to my feelings or my worry. I was always a bit torn. I absolutely loved learning; I still do, but I found the social side of school hard, and I always felt a bit stuck, like everybody else was moving at a different speed to me. That too is still true. I sometimes get overwhelmed when access is hard or when there are a lot of demands on my energy. I swallow it down and get on with it because it has always just been that way.

There is a huge part of me that just wants my son to breeze through life, to have no challenges or difficulties with anything, but that is not the reality of any life. He will experience a jump in learning for first class. He will go back into a classroom dynamic. He likes things to go his way and finds it hard when they don’t. We talk about it, we figure it out, but I can’t be in school with him. I can’t truly know if he feels lonely or scared or if the new teacher will understand that he is trying his best. Will his new teacher know that I too am trying my best? We’ll enjoy the last few slow days first and tackle it together.