Feeling a bit wobbly? I am.
During the first few weeks of the new school year, I always feel a bit unsteady. Almost like an outsider looking into what is going on with my body and my brain!
On the outside it looks like I know what I am doing but, on the inside, I am a bit unsteady. And I have been doing this “new start to the school year” thing for quite a few seasons.
It’s like somehow over the summer my body forgot what it is like to stand all day and my brain forgot how to be process and think about so many decisions all at the same time – while students, parents, colleagues, technology and more are buzzing around me left and right.
Experience helps.
But even after all these years, the first weeks of school still ask my body and mind to remember what teaching feels like.
How about you, though? How is it going so far? Are you adjusting to the new daily schedule, assignments and still searching for the rhythm to your new journey days?
Turns out there is an actual phrase for this start of the new journey phenomena. It’s called “Sea legs.”
When you first board a ship, your brain, inner ear, your eyes, and muscles are suddenly confronted with a world that is never quite still. The deck rises, falls, pitches, and rolls beneath you. At first, you might feel unsteady when you walk or have trouble keeping your balance.
How quickly do you become comfortable or proficient in the school, or grade level, or course, or situation after an initial period of awkwardness? Adjusting to learning student names, meeting new colleagues on your team, and learning about new tech, documents and report forms for the school year?
I suspect one reason the phrase has endured is because it captures something universal: competence rarely appears instantly. Most worthwhile journeys begin with a bit of wobbling.
Yet, after a few days (weeks?) your body’s balance system adapts as you instinctively anticipate the ship’s movement. Your knees stay slightly bent, your weight shifts automatically, and you can walk almost effortlessly, even in the roughest of seas.
When this happens, you finally, at some point quite literally have, “gotten your sea legs.” You adjusted to a point of equilibrium for the fresh start — a rhythm that once again feels familiar.
One early September day, I hurried into a colleague’s classroom and blurted out “I‘ve got to get my teaching legs back under me!” “You will,” she said. “You always do.” She smiled and gave me a gentle reminder that the unsteady feeling at the beginning of a new school year is well, normal.
Something to remember is this: We don’t get our sea legs while standing safely on the dock. We only get them by setting out onto the water – going on the journey.
So good for you! May this new school season become a meaningful journey, this year.
Tim Kanold
Front Porch Heart, Soul, & Joy Questions:
1. What feels a little wobbly today that experience tells you will eventually become steady?
2. Who helped you find your teaching legs during your first weeks as an educator? Have you thanked them lately?
I would love to hear your front porch thoughts about the PLC Heart, Soul, and Joy of your journey. Send a note about this essay or any of the others and join the conversation.
Leave a comment below!


Writing in the Margins of the Essay