Bittersweet

Today was the day. As in THE day. My last day teaching. I started this year somewhat lackadaisical, thinking I didn't really have to commit myself to being a good teacher since I knew I was on my way out. But that didn't really work out. In my opinion, if you don't commit yourself to the job, make a point of making connections with students, then why bother? So, as anxious as I've been for this day to arrive, it was harder than I thought it would be. How do you just walk away after nearly a decade without a little hesitation?

One Box
I've been cleaning out my room gradually. I started with the boring stuff, filing cabinets and bookshelves. But this week I took down the personal stuff. Pictures of former students and spirit line squads; handmade gifts of ceramics, stained glass and wood shop creations. The civil rights quilt that my class of all boys made the year I was determined to soften them up. My desk drawer had countless Happy Grams from colleagues, cards and notes from students, and odds and ends I confiscated or was given over the years. CD's made as end of the year gifts with class "soundtracks" and anthems were just too nostalgic to go in the trash, even though I haven't played some of them in years. So I carefully selected which items were important enough to go into one bankers box. I told myself I was only allowed to fill one box with mementos. The memories would have to suffice in place of the rest. Memories of wearing stinky football jerseys on behalf of my student athletes on game day, memories of the moments when there was a breakthrough...a look of "I get it" on a students face, memories of faces - so many faces.


A Calling
I've always thought of teaching as my calling, my place in this world. By no means was I the ideal teacher for every student, but I always felt like I belonged in the classroom. The truth is, I am intimidated by full time motherhood. I admire those already enlisted in the ranks, and hope my attempt is not disastrous. I know I'm making the right decision, but it was hard for me to make...harder than it would have been for some. Not because I don't relish the idea of being with my kids all day, but because I have loved my profession.

Saying Goodbye
I waddled around campus today trying to say goodbye personally to those who meant the most to me. Lots of hugs were exchanged, well wishing, and promises that we would meet again. If only it could be that simple. I went back to my room and remembered the summer my neighboring teacher, Terri, and I decided to paint our urine colored walls a soft white. Our trailer near the football field was not coveted by other teachers, but we loved being on the edge of campus, away from the crazy commotion in the main building. Eventually we got new carpet, decorated walls with student projects and creations, and our trailer became a home away from home. I gave the room one long, last gaze before I headed out the door this afternoon. I hope the next teacher that occupies it will keep it a safe haven.

Happy Ending
So as I taught a full lesson to each class today, I only spent the last 10 minutes or so giving them "the speech". The speech is usually delivered on their last day, but this was my last chance to give it. I left them with this quote and told them how much greatness they each possessed.

‘Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond imagination. It is our light more than our darkness which scares us. We ask ourselves – who are we to be brilliant, beautiful, talented, and fabulous. But honestly, who are you to not be so?

You are a child of God, small games do not work in this world. For those around us to feel peace, it is not example to make ourselves small. We were born to express the glory of god that lives in us. It is not in some of us, it is in all of us. While we allow our light to shine, we unconsciously give permission for others to do the same. When we liberate ourselves from our own fears, simply our presence may liberate others.’

Marianne Williamson

My goal was to get through the day without any tears. A bit of a challenge for someone who is prone to tears regardless of a pregnancy. I nearly broke when my students applauded at the end of 3rd period. If you had been on the journey with us this semester, especially with a certain group of challenging young men who sat in the back row, you would know why this meant so much. But not a tear fell. I made it to my car with dignity intact, with a very full box of memoirs, and with an overflowing heart. In fact, the first tear is falling right now as I type this entry. I vividly remember days when I was so anxious to be at this point in my life. Well, I have arrived. But I will never forget the road I took to get here and the lessons I learned while teaching. Surely I'm not finished, I just have a smaller class now...Ty and Brooke.

Let the journey continue...