Iris Fontaine stood in her art classroom, her heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves. The room was already filled with the rich, comforting scent of paint and fresh canvases, a fragrance that always reminded her of new beginnings. She paced back and forth, glancing around at the familiar walls adorned with her students' past works, each piece a testament to the creative journeys she had guided. The sunlight streamed in through the large windows, casting a warm, golden glow over the rows of easels and drawing tables arranged in a loose circle to foster a sense of community. Iris had always believed that the setup of a room could greatly influence the energy and inspiration of its occupants, and she wanted her students to feel free and open to express themselves from the very first moment.

As the clock ticked closer to the start of the day, Iris found herself torn between standing behind her desk or positioning herself in front of the chalkboard. She wanted to appear approachable, someone they could easily connect with, but she also wanted to convey the sense of order and structure that the first day often required. Her hands fidgeted with a paintbrush she had absentmindedly picked up, its bristles soft against her fingers. In her mind, she ran through her introduction again, thinking of the right words to ease any tension her new students might be feeling. Taking a deep breath, Iris decided on a spot just to the side of the chalkboard, a happy medium that would allow her to quickly shift into whatever role the room needed her to fill. The bell was about to ring, and she wanted to be ready for whatever faces might walk through the door—nervous, excited, or perhaps both.