As I sat on the Ann Arbor Open School stage on my last day of eighth grade, I gazed at the sea of younger kids, who looked back at us with wide eyes and bright smiles. Behind us, a board projected photos from our years at Open, highlighting our growth over the previous nine years. Looking around at my classmates, many of whom felt like family, I felt incredibly grateful for this school, which has shaped me as a person in ways that will forever influence my life.
Ann Arbor Open is a small, public kindergarten-through-eighth-grade school. One of the school’s many unique qualities is its mixed-grade classrooms. At Open, grades are combined — first and second, third and fourth, and so on — allowing students to have the same teacher for two years, which creates deeper relationships in the classroom.
For as long as I can remember at Open, I was always surrounded by kids who were different ages from me. In first grade, I had my first reading buddy, who, at the time, was a third grader. In second grade, I had a fourth-grade writing mentor who helped me with my writing project, a book about all the best things about each month of the year.
When I had my first opportunity to be the older buddy, I was so excited to be in the position of the people that I had always looked up to. Since it was during COVID, I laid out books upon books on my desk, all sorted by genre, as I buzzed with anticipation of meeting my buddy over Zoom. During a time of much uncertainty, this weekly routine was an important connection for me. Even years later, my buddy would email me to ask about my cat Sunny, who was a much-discussed topic during our calls.
In a lot of ways, Ann Arbor Open School resembles Community High School. In both schools, students call teachers by their first names, which cultivates a stronger bond between teachers and students. Kids are encouraged to pursue their curiosities and grow independently. Both Ann Arbor Open and Community place a strong value on student voices and opinions.
Sometimes, the two schools intersect. In third grade, I had my first Community High School buddy; I thought she was the coolest person in the world. I have many memories of running around on the playground with her. When we went online during fourth grade, she and I would exchange many excited emails over our results of Harry Potter and Hamilton quizzes.
Now, I’m the Community buddy for a few students at Ann Arbor STEAM, which feels surreal and full-circle. Once, I was the wide-eyed kid looking up at these young adults; today, that young adult is me.
Despite Open’s strengths, many of my classmates left Open in sixth grade to go to one of the bigger Ann Arbor middle schools. Most of these decisions seemed to be fueled by the desire for a “traditional” middle school experience. This was always perplexing to me. If, by “traditional,” they meant bustling hallways, never-ending drama and teachers that hardly knew you, why would you ever want to leave Open?
Going to one school for nine years allowed me, and, I imagine, the thirty or so kids that ended up staying from kindergarten through eighth grade, to develop a strong voice and presence in our close-knit community.
The school is very much a mosaic of all the people who have loved it. On the outside, the brick building looks relatively unassuming; on the inside, murals painted by students decorate the halls. A giant papier-mâché whale, which was lovingly repaired by students last year, overlooks the centrally located library. Beneath the whale, students’ self-portraits hang in rainbow color order: red for kindergarten, orange for first grade, yellow for second grade, on and on.
I have a memory in every corner of the school. In the hallways, my best friend and I twirled and leapt down the halls as we practiced our dance routine to Rihanna’s “Don’t Stop The Music.” On the playground, we played Groundies, sat in circles and played Truth-or-Dare. In the winter, we sledded down the big hill even though the lunch supervisors told us not to. In the garden, we did spiritual dancing to “Fe!n” by Travis Scott. I had many unstructured yet delightful science classes in which we would give each other piggyback rides and learn TikTok dances.
One of my all-time favorite middle school experiences at Open was a mock election class. This class gave middle school students leadership opportunities; I was the clerk, a role I held with much pride. For months, we developed a voting system, which eventually led up to a school-wide election. It included topics like what our next spirit day should be but also more serious topics like what Ann Arbor ballot initiatives should be funded.
This class was one of my first opportunities to take on a leadership role, which really helped me realize what my passions might be in high school and beyond.
Open allowed kids to be in their element. As someone who is very into charts and organization systems, I practically skipped home from school after staying late to finalize details for our election the next day.
If I think further back, I remember pouring puddles of mud out of my shoes after a morning spent building an obstacle course in the wet March weather. In kindergarten, much of my class took to caring for ants on the playground. We would contribute food from our lunch and feed them; unfortunately, this wondrous experience for us 5-year-olds ended after one of the kids’ parents found ants in his backpack.
In 7th grade, my friend and I started helping out in the younger kids’ classrooms, and it was a delight, an experience that felt so unique to Open.
Helping out in the younger classes, we were the big kids. Our former kindergarten teacher lovingly referred to us as the “biggidies,” which quickly caught on with the younger kids. When we entered the classroom, the younger kids would run up to us and hug us to the point where the teacher had to yell at them to sit back down. One moment that felt especially sweet was when all the Young-Five girls took to calling me their big sister.
The wide range of grade levels at Open shaped our community; the older kids were the role models and the younger kids looked up to us.
I don’t think I’ve fully come to terms with the fact that I’ll never live another day at Open again. When I really let myself sit in the feeling, my nostalgia for what I truly consider the “good old days” feels overwhelming.
I feel so grateful to stay connected to Open through my sister, who’s a sixth-grader there. When she graduates, that’ll be another adjustment as my family lets go of Open completely. But for now, when I go to Open to see her in a school play or to go to the school’s science fair, I’m immediately skipping down the halls. It feels like home.
