Reflections on the start of another school year 

There’s only one difference between school and prison – the dismissal bell. 

Though the importance of a quality education is not lost to me, that was my sentiment as a student. From kindergarten to college, I saw little use for the classroom. The end of summer was like the reversal of a commuted sentence; I was a prisoner forced to return to captivity. 

This core belief came, of course, before I dove into the world of jobs, bills and taxes. I’ll take the classroom again. My mother always warned me not to grow up before I had to. 

Seldom have wiser words been spoken.

Another summer break has come and gone, and children everywhere have reported back to the schoolhouse. I’m sure there are countless kids, mine included, who feel the same way I once did. Scores of “first day of school” pictures have been posted to social media, little tots standing still for the camera with placards bearing their name and grade number, like an inmate taking their mugshot. 

Parents, however, are rejoicing. Their little angels are the state’s problem for a while, and for a few months there will not be someone at home constantly eating all the food, running up the electricity bill or hogging the Wi-Fi playing Fortnite. That euphoric feeling ends as soon as you clock in at work though. Who is the sucker now?

What’s worse is the lingering sticker shock from the back-to-school shopping, particularly for those parents whose children hit a growth spurt over the past couple of months. I recently invested in a whole new wardrobe for my son. Seemingly overnight he went from my little guy to looking me in the eyes. He crawled out of bed in his old pajamas looking like Chris Farley in that scene from “Tommy Boy.” 

But the start of another school year is a bittersweet milestone. It’s the passing of the torch to another season, another year that has gone by and a reminder that time continually moves forward. Children eventually become adults, no matter how much you don’t want them not to. 

That’s the scary part. I like to think I have this parenting thing down pat, and I did back when it was all dirty diapers, managing nap time and playing games. Now the real world is sneaking in, and sometimes I can barely handle it, let alone teach someone else how to manage. Raising kids is kind of like playing the stock market; often only time will tell if your investments pay off. Of course, the more you invest the better your chances. 

I’m waxing poetic like I don’t have more “first day of schools” or growth spurts to deal with. I still have time to watch my kids grow up and teach them to be good adults. The first lesson, though, will be: Don’t do it until you have to. 

 You can reach Kyle Dominy at k.l.dominy@gmail.com or write to 115 South Jefferson St. Dublin, Ga. 31021