Labor Day was always my least favorite holiday. I'm sure I was hardly alone.
Of course, I'm talking about when I was a kid, and so just about every other kid likely joined me in that sentiment.
Labor Day meant the unofficial end to summer, though the calendar says that the season runs until September 21. No matter. The calendar didn't give us kids that long; classes in Livonia, where I grew up, always commenced the day after Labor Day.
It was a final three-day weekend before the baseball mitts and swimming suits were to go back into mothballs, in favor of notebooks, pencils and rulers.
There was one day of excitement, however, in the weeks leading up to the first day of school, and that was the day the class lists would be posted in the school window by the front door. This was for grade school, not beyond.
I'm not sure how we found out that the lists were posted. Probably some sort of loosely designated sentry or Paul Revere type would spread the word. This was some 20-plus years before the Internet became all the rage.
The way it worked was simple. Printed 8-1/2 x 11 inch sheets of paper were taped to the window, face out. The sheets were generally situated by grade. On the top of each sheet was the teacher's name and the grade he/she taught. The students' names were listed below. And all the kids---didn't matter where they lived, they all managed to gather---would frantically search for their names, not knowing until that very moment which teacher they had and which of their friends were in the same class.
It was some pretty intense stuff.
After you located your name, the next step was to search for your friends' and also your enemies'. Soon there would be a cacophony of sighs of relief mixed with howls of disappointment.
Maybe you got the teacher you wanted, but your best friends were in another classroom. Or, vice-versa.
Regardless, when you got the word that the class lists were ready for consumption, you couldn't hop onto your bicycle fast enough.
I recently had a drink with an old grade school and middle school pal. We compared teachers that we had in grades 1-6 and not once were we in the same class. I thought that was pretty amazing.
That "what class are you in?" excitement ended when we all shuffled off to middle school, where you didn't have just one teacher.
It was fun while it lasted, though.
As for Labor Day, I enjoy it now. It means a three-day weekend, which as an adult you treasure.
No matter what kind of class you have.