A reflection on the past year (or really the last three)

I've had this countdown in our kitchen since there were 25 days of school left, but it is mostly there because I am so excited about sleeping and not working 55+ hours per week.  There are days when I can't wait to erase the "1" on the board and change it to a big zero.  As the time has ticked away, though, a huge part of me has dreaded "the end" and saying goodbye.

I say "the end" because this is the end of my public school teaching career for awhile.  I am taking a leave of absence and instead of being a full-time special education teacher for our local district next year, I'll be teaching half-day Pre-K at a private school.  I'm looking forward to my new job, but I have felt a calling toward public schools, special education, and "being a teacher" (AKA pouring every moment of my time and every ounce of energy into my work) for so long that I feel somewhat lost in knowing how to define myself now.

The decision about next year's job was an incredibly difficult one, but in light of having a new baby on the way, I had to make the best choice for our little family.  I'm such a planner.  I literally had sat down and made a list of pros and cons for every job option, weighing each of them heavily and slowly eliminating the ones that didn't seem practical.  In the midst of my list-making and realism, my husband stopped me one night and asked, "But what do you want to do?"

I didn't know.

What I really wanted was this: To be a full-time teacher and a full-time momma and be the best there is at both of those and love both of them and never get tired of either.  (I'm tired just wrapping my head around all of that as I write!)  God bless you moms of babies and toddlers who continue teaching well and somehow manage to raise wonderful children; I don't know how you do it.

People often look at teachers and think that we have the easiest job.  Summers off?  Leaving work at 3:00 every day?  Reading the newspaper behind a desk?  To all of that, here's what I have to say: Classrooms and lesson plans don't magically appear, ready to go, on the first day of school.  I can count on two hands the number of times I have left work at 3:00.  And sitting behind a desk reading for pleasure?  Please.  I barely have time to go to the bathroom.  

During my first year of teaching, my hair fell out, I threw up on Sunday nights at the thought of returning to work on Monday, and I was skinnier than I've ever been.  Rock bottom was when my husband came up to visit me at lunch one day and found me eating in a dark, tiny closet next to my room because it was the only place and the only time during the day when, for just ten minutes, I could hear myself think.  When Spring Break came, my aide and I went dancing down the halls, thrilled for a short break.  But when May 25th, this date that we had been anticipating since December, finally appeared, I hugged my last student tightly as he got on the bus...and then I put my head down on a table in my classroom and bawled.

Part of that was just an emotional release that I had held inside all year.  I think that most of it, though, was realizing that what I did day in and day out mattered, and that, amid the paperwork and temper tantrums, I was immensely blessed to be a teacher.  I loved those kids, and, as much as we had gone head to head about computer time or spelling words, I would miss them and would do all of it again in a heartbeat.

There are little victories that I see when no one else does, and there are a few words that can change everything.  These are the moments when I've stopped and thanked God for sending the small blessings which keep every teacher going.

Twice this year, I hugged my students a little tighter and truly understood the significance of my job.  Once was following the Sandy Hook shooting; the other was this past week as the tornado just down the road obliterated two elementary schools.  On the news, teachers have been called "heroes" in these circumstances, and they should certainly be recognized for saving their students' lives.  But really, we are all just doing our job.  And there's no other way we would have it.  

I've had so many other "lasts" this week, but the final one is here- the last day of school.  We'll play games, have a picnic, sign yearbooks, and give big hugs.  I'll wish them all a happy summer, and they'll run out the doors with huge grins on their faces.  I'll have a huge grin on my face, too, but I'll also have tears in my eyes- tears because I have come to love my students beyond what I ever thought I could, and because I feel so very thankful for this beautiful life that I've been given the past three years.