Dear First Year Teacher:
It’s okay if your bulletin boards are blank

Each year before I begin the school year, I remember the advice that my father, the best teacher I know, gave me 11 years ago. It went something like this:
It’s okay if your bulletin boards are blank when the kids walk in. It’s okay if everything isn’t “set up.” The kids don’t care. They care more about who YOU are than what your classroom is looks like.
Now, this isn’t a permission slip to dismiss organization and aesthetic, nor am I telling you to invite overstimulation and chaos into your classroom. This is, however, a permission slip to release perfectionism. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE to find the perfect font for the perfect situation. But, every once in a while, I need to remind myself that Comic Sans is the best font for readability. Therein lies a metaphor for simplifying our teaching lives. Teacher Twitter and Instagram are saturated with overwhelmingly polka-dotted ideas for classroom themes and call-and-response chants. I get caught up in it, too. My advice to you (and to myself!) as we begin this school year: stop scrolling, stop comparing. YOU, with your very own style, personality, experiences, and ideas- you’ve got what you need. You don’t need Pinterest. Step back and think about what those sweet faces you’re about to meet REALLY want and need.
They want to be heard. They want you to pay close attention. They want to be seen. Really seen.
The one who is panicking because she didn’t do her summer reading.
The one who read ten books over the summer.
The one who spent the summer looking after his baby brother while his single parent worked.
The one who went on a European vacation with her married parents and nanny.
The one who plays school with their stuffed animals and has a countdown to the first day of school on their desk.
The one who is dreading the first day because last year, her stutter was often triggered when she read out loud and she’s filled with fear that it will happen this year.
The one who went on a back to school shopping spree, got a fresh haircut, and picked out every detail of his outfit.
The one whose sneakers are too small.
These ones and every one in between are going to show up carrying their excitement, worry, joy, anxiety, humor, fear, smiles, questions (ALL OF THE QUESTIONS, bless their sweet inquisitive souls). Your job. Teach them the things, yes. But your biggest job is to be a safe, fun, consistent, respectful, dependable container for them to place all that they carry. Help them carry it all (except for their backpacks; let them do that on their own please). I have some pieces of advice on how to start doing this. I can’t take credit for all of them. They’re not new. They’re not earth shattering. They’re not time consuming. I had a professor in college who repeatedly said, “good teaching is good teaching.” Early on in my career, I had the privilege to watch many veteran teachers perfect the waltz that is good teaching seamlessly and beautifully. Now that I’m a veteran teacher, it is my privilege to pass this advice on to you.
- Greet each student by name. If you can, study their picture + name before the first day. If you don’t have access to their pictures beforehand, memorize your class list so that each name is top of mind. Then, introduce yourself to each student. Learn how to correctly pronounce their first + last names. Even if they tell you it’s ok.
- Watch closely. Consider yourself a detective during the first weeks of school. Were they walking in a big group from the bus into the classroom? Were they walking alone? Did they enter the classroom with their head down or up?
- Be intentional with your words. The smallest shifts can make a huge difference. These are not my ideas, but ones I’ve read about from other teachers. A shift like replacing “your parents” with “your grown ups” lets students know that you’re not someone who is going to assume anything about their lives. Replacing “substitute” with “guest teacher” lets students know that the adult taking your place for the day is an esteemed guest who should be treated as such. Replacing “do you have any questions?” with “what questions do you have?” lets students know that you expect them to have questions.
- Tell them stories about your life. They are SO curious about you. In my classroom, we FaceTime my family members on their birthdays. My students say things like, “Oh, Meghan- is she the friend from the Halloween story when you were dressed up like an m+m?” Connection is a trust builder. Trust is a community builder.
- Show your humanness (with boundaries, of course). Tired? Frustrated? Sad? Made a mistake? Hungry? Celebrating something? Tell them! They’ll be wildly understanding + interested. It gives them permission to be all of those things out loud, too.
- Follow up. Ask them how their karate tournament went. How their cousin is feeling after they mentioned she’d been sick with the flu. Connection is King, baby.
- Establish the home-school connection early on. Connect with families before Back to School Night. I make introductory phone calls to each child’s family within the first two weeks of school. This one is a bit time consuming, but it’s one of the most powerful practices.
- Let them help you. For me, small tasks like remembering to take attendance are hard. Boom! The attendance manager is born. (Teachers, will we ever remember to take attendance?)
- Laugh. A lot. These little people have PhDs in FUN. Find ways to inject humor (without sarcasm!) into lessons and conversations. High expectations + high fun = high engagement. That’s the sweet spot for success.
- On Fridays, leave immediately following the last bus (or whenever your contract allows and not a minute after).
And fear not, my friend. The one who will tell you EXACTLY what should go on that bulletin board- they’re showing up, too.
I’m writing, YA’LL. Follow me here on Medium to see what I come up with next.