In the rhythms of the year here in Connecticut, it’s not so much Memorial Day that marks the unofficial start of summer, but the end of the public school year, which is usually in mid-late June. Maybe this is even more-so the case for me, having taught for many years after I was no longer a student myself and now, married to a teacher, parent to two school-aged kids, one of those adults who still thinks “next year” means September. (An aside: I’m never not taken aback when one of my friends who works in a more business-aware world mentions “next quarter,” and is referring, not to a time when grades are due but an economic unit of time.)
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