If only summer could last forever. Who doesn’t love the carefree mornings, the leisurely days, the relaxing evenings? How refreshing to go to the park, work on puzzles, bake, draw, swim, and string beads – with no homework to complete and no deadlines to meet. Yet all too soon those sweet summer days ebb away, and the school bell begins to ring. Its shrill tone grows louder and more insistent, like an alarm clock that dutifully yet unrelentingly arouses the peaceful summer slumberer. There’s no ignoring it now. It’s back to the grind.
And then it happens. She awakens with a shriek in the dead of night. Her pulse is racing, and she’s drenched from perspiration; she can barely catch her breath. Her frantic eyes dart wildly around the room. Despair gives way to relief as visions of the classroom in her nightmare are replaced with the comforting, familiar sights of her bedroom. There’s no mistaking it, she’s anxious about that first day of school.
Is she an innocent six-year-old, scared to begin first grade? A nervous preteen, apprehensive about the transition from elementary to middle school? Maybe she’s a worried fifteen-year-old, dreading her initiation into high school. Actually, she could be a pupil of any age fretting over the return to her confining desk.
Students the world over share these sentiments. Many even feel victimized by all the “villains” out there (i.e. principals and teachers) who force them back into the classroom for the next round of studies. So much is expected of children: preparation, organization, and concentration, not to mention hours of work! Indeed, students surely believe the above scenario describes the experience of one in their ranks. What may never occur to them is that it is their teacher’s feelings I describe! Yes, contrary to popular belief, teachers actually do have feelings…and fears…and nightmares.
When I had my first back-to-school nightmare, about three weeks ago (!), I thought I was really in trouble. How would I manage a month of these distressing dreams? Baruch Hashem, it turned out to be an isolated incident – for now. I found out that a good friend of mine – a veteran teacher of elementary, high school, and seminary classes – actually considers it a good sign when her nightmares begin so early. She says it’s a healthy manifestation of having internalized the reality that she’s going back to work, and it makes her begin preparing in earnest. To each his own. Personally, I’d rather do without the bad dreams. So, as I felt myself tensing up about the upcoming school year, and my dire need to organize my material and concretize lesson plans, I considered how to begin. Preparation is essential, but procrastination may also be therapeutic, right?
I decided to conduct an unofficial poll among my fellow teachers around the globe regarding this sensitive issue. Many people I spoke to were surprised by my questions. Some wanted to know when I took up a career in psychology or why I cared what they dream about. They good-naturedly answered my questions anyway, and here’s what I determined: The vast majority of teachers I spoke to do get nervous in anticipation of a new school year, and most of them have nightmares as a manifestation of those nerves. A few teachers even experience the same symptoms of anxiety towards the end of other extended vacations during the year. One high school teacher shared that much of the discussion in the teachers’ room on the first day revolves around this very topic. So it does seem to be a fairly widespread epidemic. Yet I also found out that, although most teachers plagued by before-school nightmares are sure that’s the norm, quite a few teachers are completely unaffected.
What do the teachers dream about? Actually, the content of the nightmares is quite similar, since they reflect the specific concerns of teachers. The two main categories are classroom discipline and adequate preparation. The ones who dream about discipline seem to do so because they have experienced living nightmares in the classroom. They tend to be, but are not limited to, the younger, less experienced crowd. They include preschool teachers who’ve sustained too many “direct hits” from unruly tots, grade school teachers who’ve struggled with the chutzpa issue, and instructors of any grade who just can’t seem to hold the reigns. The more experienced morahs with this type of nightmare hypothesize that it reflects the one big unknown. As one teacher put it, “I know where my classroom is, I know my subject matter, and my lessons are well prepared. I even know two weeks in advance what outfit I’ll wear. The one thing I don’t have a handle on before the year begins is who my students will be.”
A teacher with seven years of experience shared her theory that nightmares reflect one’s weak spot. She doesn’t get the discipline variety of nightmares. Rapport with the children is her strength, while organization and advance planning are weaknesses. Like most of the teachers I spoke with, she dreams any combination of the following scenarios: arrives late, can’t locate her class, is missing her attendance sheets, prepared the wrong subject or only five minutes worth of the correct subject, is tongue-tied, forgot her hand-outs, and/or has temporary amnesia.
But even in one’s position of strength, a teacher may not be immune. One super-organized teacher in my school makes a nearly hour-long commute to Yerushalayim daily. In her recurring nightmare, she is on the bus, ready to review her lesson, and peers into her bag only to discover that it’s empty! The orderly lesson plans she so carefully prepared remain on her dining room table, while she’s left to enter the lion’s den with no ammunition.
One teacher I interviewed said she only had nightmares prior to her first year of teaching, while others took as long as 14 years to get over that stage! Some have been teaching longer than that and still await sweet dreams prior to school. All agreed that their fears are always laid to rest soon after meeting their pupils.
So, if you are an apprehensive teacher suffering from perturbing dreams, surely it’s comforting to know that you’re not alone. And if you are a student, assume your teacher is one of those non-nightmare sufferers. But just in case she isn’t, try your hardest not to make her dreams a reality.