At nine a.m. on Tuesday, September 2, just as the chapel bells are heralding the start of a new school year, the first vehicles proceed onto the campus of Tiffin Academy. Every student for the past 114 years has traveled the same route: through the wrought‐iron gates, down the Pasture lined with shade maples and white horse fencing, past the “Teddy” (the Edward Tiffin Student Union) and the “Sink” (the Mary Tiffin Sinclair Library), around the circle in front of the Schoolhouse, and along the stretch of freshly mowed athletic fields to the dormitories—Classic North (boys) and Classic South (girls).

Monogrammed duffel bags, mini fridges, field hockey sticks, guitar cases, snowshoes, beanbag chairs, cross-country skis, wireless speakers, makeup mirrors, LED strip lights, extra-long twin sheet sets, skateboards, scooters, a Frank Ocean poster. Audre Robinson—who is in her sixth year as Head of School—helps unload exactly one item from each vehicle. In her first year as Head, she wore a raspberry linen sheath and stacked heels and stood atop the Schoolhouse steps waving to the processional of cars as though she were some kind of royalty. This was how the Heads of School who preceded Audre—all of them white men—comported themselves on Move‐In Day. But Audre found it made her feel silly and uncomfortable, not to mention lonely, and so in year two, she donned a pair of mom jeans and a hunter‐green Tiffin Thoroughbreds T‐shirt (available from the school store for $17.95) and greeted each student and their parent(s) or guardian(s) with a smile, a handshake or (for the returning students she favored) a hug, and the ceremonial unloading assistance.

Audre thinks of each new school year as a blank composition book, a fresh box of sharpened pencils—but this reveals her age. To these kids, it’s…what? An empty Google doc, the cursor blinking at the top of a laptop screen?