Last October feels like a blur — midterms, lesson plans, and a classroom full of teenagers who couldn’t stop talking about costumes. Teaching high school in New York means chaos around Halloween. Everyone’s creative, loud, and slightly too excited. I remember walking into class wearing my pumpkin-orange hijab, and my students immediately cheered. “Miss B, you’re festive!” one of them said. I laughed. That’s as far as I go — festive, not spooky.
Last year, the school hosted its first Halloween Cultural Day. The idea was to mix fun with learning — history of the holiday, global traditions, and how people celebrate differently around the world. My students brought snacks, decorated the board with tiny paper ghosts, and begged me to join the costume contest. I told them I’d judge instead. Someone came as a math teacher zombie, another as Shakespeare with AirPods. It was ridiculous and wonderful.
After school, a few of us teachers went to grab coffee near Union Square. The streets were packed — people in capes, makeup, and glitter. I loved watching New York transform at night, how every corner glowed with orange lights. I didn’t dress up much, but my orange hijab and black trench coat made me feel like part of it anyway.
This year, I’m planning something quieter. I want to visit the Village Halloween Parade, but maybe just as a spectator this time. Last year, I helped chaperone a group of seniors, and it was wild — marching bands, giant puppets, and people dancing in the street. I think I deserve one peaceful night, maybe with a latte and a good view from the sidewalk.
At school, I’m turning my classroom into a “Haunted Library.” The students will bring books that fit the theme — mysteries, legends, ghost stories — and we’ll turn off the lights, use flashlights, and read dramatic passages. Last year, one student read The Tell-Tale Heart so seriously everyone clapped. This year, I’m adding Coraline to the mix.
Decorating is my favorite part. I keep it modest but fun — paper bats on the windows, string lights around the whiteboard, and little pumpkins on each desk. The kids pretend to act “too cool,” but they secretly love it. It’s the one week they actually volunteer to help after class.
Halloween in New York has its own rhythm. It’s busy, messy, and beautiful. I’ve seen superheroes in the subway, vampires in coffee shops, and ghosts holding tote bags full of textbooks. People let themselves play. I like that — the balance between work and whimsy.
Sometimes my students ask if I celebrate Halloween, and I tell them I enjoy the creativity, not the candy. For me, it’s about community — laughter, color, imagination. The city feels softer when everyone’s in costume. Even strangers say hi.
This year, I might wear my midnight-blue hijab with tiny silver pins that sparkle like stars. Subtle costume, teacher-friendly. I’ll probably pair it with a long black cardigan and a smile that says, Yes, I’m grading essays tonight, but I’m still having fun.
After school on Halloween night, I plan to walk through Bryant Park, maybe grab roasted chestnuts from a vendor and watch the ice-rink lights turn on for the season. It’s not spooky, but it’s seasonal — the kind of calm celebration I love.
Looking back, last year felt fast and loud. This year, I want slow and meaningful. Fewer photos, more moments. Fewer decorations, more laughter. That’s what teaching — and living in New York — keeps teaching me: the magic isn’t in how much you do; it’s in how much you feel while doing it.
So here’s to another October, another round of orange lights and chalk dust, and maybe one more pumpkin on my desk.
Until next bell,
– Miss Blondell
