Today was the last day of school. I have completed five years of teaching. Most years, when this day arrives I am full of excitement. While I'm a bit excited, I am more sad. I am really going to miss this group.
I have spent two years with many of these children. And while the days and weeks may have been rough, I have never stopped loving or believing in them. I have taught my babies how to read and write, how to add and subtract. Now it is time for them to move on and learn more, but I am like a Mama who doesn't want to let go.
Not only is it hard to let go, but I also worry about my kids this summer. I worry that they won't read enough and will lose what they've learned. I worry they won't have enough food to eat. I worry that they won't get the love they need. I worry about how they will be treated at home. During the school year, I am able to show them that I care and make sure they get breakfast and lunch, but when they are home, I cannot. This has always been what I have found most difficult about being a teacher. It doesn't matter how great a teacher is, she can not change the home life of her students.
At the end of the day, I was getting particulary sad about having to say goodbye. The little boy that I've mentioned before that hated my clouds and couldn't talk to me because I was a stranger came up to my table. He said "That's why you are a special teacher." Unsure of what made me special, I asked. "You are special because you let us do stuff." Hearing a student tell me I was a special teacher made my day and my year. It made every difficult day worth it.
4 weeks ago