I am no longer a high school English teacher. In the past two years I have been a teacher for grades nine through twelve, a volleyball coach, a high school pageant director, the Key Club advisor, and the Prom sponsor. The secondary roles, after the teaching, were like hot potatoes passing from me to other teachers. But the teaching remained the same, and now it is gone.
The feeling of finishing something like teaching is a bit more complicated than just relief. Maybe since it was a job, a lifestyle even, I feel more than just relief. I feel a bit lost and fearful of the prospect of being a student again.
Feelings change after "the big thing," whatever it is, passes. These last few months of teaching, I had a number in my planner which I changed every day that passed: 21 days left, 14 days left, 1 day left. Sounds like I was pretty anxious to leave, huh? However, towards the end of teaching- like maybe the month of May, I started to see all the good things about my job.
Remember the scene in Father of The Bride Part II where George Banks (played by Steve Martin) and Nina Banks (played by Diane Keaton) are driving home after receiving the news that Nina is not going through menopause, but is pregnant? George Banks looks out his car window and sees a father with a wrinkled forehead running after his crying, yelling three year old son. Nina Banks looks out her car window and sees a young, long-haired mother with her six year old daughter. They are skipping, hand-in-hand, down the sidewalk. Much of the time I worked as a high school teacher, I saw a lot of the bad parts (just like George Banks). Toward the end, I saw the rosy parts (like Nina Banks).
Since I don't think my blog is the place to carp about the bad parts of my job, let me share some rosy parts:
1) My tenth graders (the class that tested my sanity the most) brought food on the last day of class before finals. One boy brought his mom's famous candy topped brownies. Another boy brought Mountain Dew, lots of it. By the end of the party which lasted into seventh period, all thirteen of us were pretty jumpy which led to some pretty hilarious conversations. Kid: Miss Johnson, if I go up to the University of Alabama to visit and you see me across the quad will you wave at me or just ignore me? Me: Ummm, I would wave at you and say "Hi!" Seriously, I am not going to ignore you. Another kid: Miss Johnson, right after graduation I am sending you a friend request on Facebook. Another kid: Miss Johnson, I am definitely not sending you a friend request.
2) On some of my final exams, after the essay section at the end, I wrote something like "I am going to miss y'all next year and I hope next year is wonderful!" Not in a million years did I expect some kids to write back on the exams "I'm going to miss you too, Miss Johnson" and "Don't forget the time capsule we buried, Miss Johnson." Those were some sweet moments sprinkled into the grittiness of grading final exams.
3) On the seniors' last day at school, I made them take the last quiz on Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie. After some whining and complaining about how I was the only teacher who made them do work on the last day of school, I conceded to making the quiz open book. One of my senior boys who is country as it can get came up to me and hugged me. As if he needed an explanation for his sudden paroxysm of kindness toward a teacher he said "I knew you were nice, Miss Johnson."
4) I spoke at our schools' assembly we have once a week where pastors come and speak on a designated word of the week. I like to think that the words come off the posters that are on the walls of the office on The Office. Example: A picture of a lone canoe at sunset with the words "Integrity: being who you really are" beneath. Anyway, I spoke on "Sincerity" and began my talk by telling the kids that it was hard for me to stand up and speak about the Lord to them since they had seen me in some bad moments of me being condescending and mean. I had several students audibly say "It's okay, Miss Johnson." Ok, now I am starting to cry.
I don't know why things get better right before you leave. Maybe you put less pressure on your job, or your family, or your friends to be "just right" since you know you don't have enough time to change them, only time to enjoy them for what or who they are.
