Saying Goodbye

Saying goodbye to students at the end of the year is one of the most bittersweet feelings I believe a teacher experiences in his/her career. In one respect, it is one of the best days of the year because summer is staring you in the face. You have lived through the sarcastic "genius" who loves to ask questions and point out every time you make a mistake, you have improved a little bit on your craft, and you've even managed to save a few Expo markers to put back and use for next year! As my students crowd around to sign the scrapbook I have to encourage or harass them to write in, I always feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. I can't help but relive the pride I felt when the boy on the front row completed his research paper all by himself; I smile to myself as I think about the young girl who finally decided to trust me after months I spent trying to convince her I was worthy. I thought I couldn't wait until summer to arrive. But now I just need a few more minutes so I don't forget them. Their youthful laughs and silly questions and special faces. But I'll see them next year if I'm lucky. We'll say goodbye for two months and the ones who always surprise me will come back to see me in the fall.

Even though I'm just finishing my second year, I've been forced to accept that sometimes in teaching you are forced to say goodbye to students forever. You lose them. And your heart stops and you feel a sickness deep down in the pit of your gut that you thought was reserved for family. The phrase, "He was my kid" pops in your mind...even as your heart breaks for the parents who you know actually raised him. But you invested something in him for months, and he crept in your heart in a way you didn't realize. And you mourn for this loss because in all the months you dreamt of all he could be, you believed he would eventually get there. Yet it will never be.

As a teacher, I've started the past two Augusts feeling as if the balloon inside me has been deflated. Summer is over and so is my fun. I'm excited with anticipation during workdays, but as soon as the first week begins, nerves and exhaustion take over and they last until practically December, it seems. After December, I finally get to know "my kids" and my balloon starts to inflate again.

With our school trying to bounce back from a broken summer 0f losing two of its own, I feel like I need to make sure my balloon is inflated before school even starts so I can start loving my kids earlier this year. That's why I'm there, after all. And while they're in my classroom, I'll make sure they know how much they're cared for. That way when the goodbyes come, I'll be certain they'll remember it.

Never Say Never

Every time that my mama gives advice I listen, and ever since I was little, she's warned me countless times to, "Never say never." I don't remember when this small nugget of advice first took up residence in my mind, but I do remember the many times I've ignored it and said "the word" out loud, only to begin eating that same word days, weeks, and sometimes even years later. I will never get over him. I will never make it through this semester. I will never survive my first year of teaching. I will never live through a class with "that kid." Don't get me wrong. I'm a woman of my word. What is integrity without following through with everything you say? So I make it a point to try my best to do everything I say I will do. But the word, "never," still slips out sometimes.

This word, "never," packs such a punch that matches my emotions at times that I feel I MUST use it because at those times...it's all there is. It's a rope tightly wound around my heart...you can almost feel the constriction and... it's perfect. And it's also final.

My most recent: I will never blog. I made my very declarative statement back when online journals first began and held tightly to it. I couldn't figure out why others wanted to post their thoughts online for complete strangers to read. How could they bare their souls like that? And then I realized I was a complete hypocrite. I preach to my English students all the time that words are powerful enough to hold their thoughts and that they should never be ashamed to write them down for others to see. If I believe that, then I can write a blog.

And so I'm glad that sometimes I don't always do what I say I will do (or won't do). I won't give up the word "never" entirely, though. There are statements to which I can attach the word "never" and know with all my being that I will never have to take those words back. I will never stop loving. I will never stop dreaming. Jesus will never stop loving me. And I will never stop chasing hope.