Who Am I Now? The Unexpected Emotions of a New School Year
Jenny Gaynor, author and founder of Calm Education, teaches SEL tools to help kids, families, and teachers build confidence, connection, and calm.
September has always felt like a month of new beginnings. We get new backpacks, new teachers, new classrooms, new routines, and new opportunities. We spend a lot of time talking about how children feel at the start of a new school year, discussing anxiety, excitement, friendships, separation, homework, and adjusting to a new routine.
But there’s another piece of September that I think deserves more attention, the way a new school year can make us question who we are. When our children move into a new grade, a new school, or a new stage of life, we don’t just experience a change in their lives. We experience a change in ours, too.
When a new school year becomes a new identity
Think about a child starting kindergarten. They aren’t just starting school. They are forming a new identity. The same thing happens to us as adults. A parent whose youngest child starts kindergarten may suddenly have an empty house during the day. A parent whose child starts high school may realize that their child needs them in a different way. A teacher moving to a new grade may find herself wondering if she can really do this. Even when change is exciting, it can feel uncomfortable.
I know this because I am experiencing a pretty big identity shift myself this September. My children are moving out of the house and heading to boarding school. While I am incredibly excited for them, proud of them, and genuinely looking forward to watching them grow, I am also feeling the ache of what is changing.
For so many years, being a mom has been woven into almost every part of my day. There have been the obvious things like driving, meals, school events, sports, and activities. But there have also been the little things like the conversations over the dinner table, knowing who had a good day and who didn’t, hearing about the funny thing that happened at school, being needed, and being there. But now my days are going to look different. I know this is a good thing, but I miss them already. I know both things can be true at the same time.
The part of transition we don’t always see
When we think about back-to-school transitions, we tend to focus on the logistics. What time do we need to wake up? What time is the bus? Who is the teacher? What supplies do we need? But underneath all of those questions are the emotional ones, "Who am I now?"
A child may be figuring out where they fit in this new school year. They may be navigating new friendships, new expectations, and a new level of independence. Parents may be quietly adjusting to their changing role. The child who once needed help with everything may now want more independence. The child who used to tell you every detail of their day may suddenly give you a one-word answer.
Educators are doing their own adjusting. Every September brings a new group of students, new dynamics, new challenges, and a new opportunity to figure out what kind of teacher this particular group needs. These questions don’t mean we aren’t ready. They mean we are all human.
We can be excited and still feel sad
As a social and emotional learning (SEL) coach, I talk a lot to kids about allowing emotions to be present without immediately trying to make them go away. I think we need to remember that lesson for ourselves, too. We don’t have to turn every uncomfortable feeling into a positive one.
Sometimes we feel sad, or we feel excited, relieved, and overwhelmed. Sometimes we feel all of those things in the same five minutes. That’s ok. We don’t need to tell ourselves, “I shouldn’t feel this way. This is a good thing!” Instead, we can make room for the complexity.
We can think, “This is a good thing, and it is hard.” Or, “I know I am ready for this, and I am still adjusting.” There is so much freedom in allowing two seemingly opposite feelings to exist at the same time.
Maybe we don’t need to get back to “normal”
This is something I have been thinking about a lot lately. When things change, we often say, “I just need to get back to normal.” But maybe that’s not the goal. Maybe there isn’t a “normal” to get back to.
Maybe we are being asked to create a new normal, a new routine, a new rhythm, a new relationship with our children, and a new understanding of ourselves. That takes time.
We often expect children to adjust quickly. We give them a few days or weeks and assume that once the new routine is established, they should be fine. But emotional adjustment doesn’t always follow the school calendar. A child can be excited about their new classroom and still miss their old one. A parent can be proud of their child’s independence and still feel lonely. A teacher can love her students and still feel completely overwhelmed. This is all part of the transition.
Permit yourself to become
This September, I will watch my children step into a new chapter, and I will be stepping into one, too. I know there will be moments when I miss the way things used to be. I also know there will be moments when I discover something new about myself.
That’s the beautiful and sometimes uncomfortable thing about transitions. They don’t just change our circumstances. They change us.
So if September feels a little strange this year, give yourself some grace. If you are a parent who feels a lump in your throat after dropping your child off, you’re not doing it wrong. If you’re an educator who feels exhausted after the first few weeks, you’re not failing. If your child is excited one day and emotional the next, they aren’t necessarily struggling. Everyone is adjusting and becoming.
Maybe we don’t have to have it all figured out just yet. Maybe we can simply take a breath, notice what is here, and remind ourselves that we don’t have to know exactly who we are in this new chapter yet. We are allowed to discover who we are becoming along the way.
Read more from Jenny Gaynor
Jenny Gaynor, Social-Emotional Learning Coach and Founder
Jenny Gaynor is the author and founder of Calm Education. She teaches children, families, and teachers essential SEL (Social-Emotional Learning) skills. Her mission is to help others build confidence, resilience, and healthy connections. Jenny is a former educator with over 20 years of classroom experience. She holds certifications in both elementary and special education. Jenny also has training in yoga, meditation, and SEL facilitation. She lives in Barrington, Rhode Island, with her family and therapy cat, Tiller.
