.
But each time I am new. And watching over the shoulder of my daughter, the new teacher, gives a special pleasure and pride. It’s a new view. The son is father to the man; the student to the teacher; the school head to the youngest child ... and his own daughter, now walking herself to her new schoolhouse – and so on. Doorway upon doorway. We await the appearance of ourselves, over and over. This, too, is what we’ll teach the kids. As we hold hands, stick together. Be reverent.