Making the decision to retire from the classroom was one of the most difficult I ever made. Though teachers experience their fair share of discomfort, disillusionment, and sometimes even heart break, this teacher madly loved the job. Loved the studies that brought me to the profession, loved the planning, the research, the sheer delight of living a life devoted to education. I loved my colleagues, my books, my classroom with those huge windows and the long metal pole it took an expert to hook into the forty-year-old locks so that we could let in the air, and sometimes the snowflakes. Those windows overlooked the playground, sports field, and elevated neighborhood behind it. I remember well the pain of coming back after one of our wildfires to see that neighborhood largely destroyed, blackened, treeless, and empty. The subsequent rebuilding, and the return of families and new green life. I loved the bells. I loved hall duty, laughing with my friends and all of those fresh young backpack laden rebels. Mostly, I loved you, my kids.
Each year I remember telling my classes that their eighth grade year was going to race by, that before we all knew it, we’d be saying goodbye. And sure enough, those months did disappear quickly, relentlessly leading us to the last day of school, when I proudly sent you all off to high school. But I always knew I’d still see you around the mountain, and that you’d sneak into my classroom during seventh period for a quick hug, looking all big and different and like a more defined version of the person I’d laughed with, explained the differences between colons and semi-colons to, crafted with, making things like Poe Ravens to decorate the doorway, and cried with over Anne Frank’s capture. You were growing up.
When school started this year for the first time without me, I cried. Not only was I not in school, I wasn’t even in the same state. Tough times, kids! But I realized something this morning, had an epiphany when I got a message from a student I taught some ten years back. Hey, Mrs. P. I wrote a book; would you read it and give me your opinion?
Heck, yes! Social media may be discouraged by some, particularly high level administrators worried about possible sticky situations, and I understand that, but for me, your old teacher caught between California and the Midwest, wondering if I did enough when I had the chance, it is a lovely lifeline. You send me messages, post pictures of your accomplishments, funny moments, likes and dislikes. I get a lot of dog pictures. And I love it! So, I just wanted to say, you are all remarkable human beings, every one of you. So I guess once a teacher, always a teacher. And I thank God for that.
Carpe Diem! Mrs. P.