Twenty-Seven Days

Can it be true that I have only 27 more days to teach at Oak Ridge in ISD 196!!  That is approximately 0.0027 (27/10,000ths) of my career left.  (I can't believe I actually used a calculator to figure out the fractional and decimal equivalent of 27 out of 10,000!)

Today I spent some time in my classroom going through two file cabinet drawers, with my recycle bin and a garbage can close at hand.  Knowing that I am leaving worthwhile books and materials for my replacement, Jody, is comforting. Giving chapter books I can't use to my students will be rewarding.   Tossing things I will never ever need again is cathartic!

However, there is one file I could not dump, because it is full of letters and photos I have received from students and their parents through the years. Some of the notes I read made me laugh out loud (Really LAUGH OUT LOUD--not the LOL you see in text messages where people might just be smiling quietly.) Other brought tears to my eyes as I took mini-trips down several memory lanes. My laughter and tears echoed in the quiet building on this Sunday afternoon.

From the notes they wrote, I could tell that my fifth graders at Diamond Path knew they needed to write "a lot" as two words and never to say the "E" word.  I have always cautioned my students not to say something is "easy" as others may struggle and we wouldn't want them to feel worse.  Instead, it was best to say to themselves, "I understand." 

There was a note from a parent thanking me for  attending an evening spelling bee at the middle school to support her son, grateful to see that someone else believed in him.  There were thank you notes from both parents and students written at the end of each year.  One was from a vivacious, bright and beautiful student whose life was tragically cut short in a car accident when she was in 11th grade. How could I toss all of the cute poems and drawings I had received and all of the other scraps of paper with special meaning?

At Diamond Path, I was often stuffing report card envelopes on the last day of the year, sneaking back to my classroom during our traditional softball game of teachers versus fifth graders. Never much of an athlete--even labeled "athletically declined" by my ex--it was no sacrifice for me to skip part of the game.  I would go back to my room and finish one last comment, stuff those last few envelopes or write one last thank you note. The year that my older son Mark graduated from high school, we were required to write full page letters to each of our students. Knowing I would be busy with his graduation and the party, I worked hard to finish early. Then, at a team meeting about three weeks before school ended, I spread out all of my finished letters on the table. My camera was poised as Chet and Ann and Tom stared in disbelief at this incredible feat.  That is a photo to treasure!

As I packed up the contents of those two folders, I thought about all of those students through the years and wondered where life has taken them. Are they happy? Do they still remember to write "a lot" as two words?  Do they still say "I understand" when something comes easy to them? Do they remember anything at all about the time we spent together or did that year blend together with so many others in their childhood?  If they can remember their year with me in a positive light and can recite a story or two about something funny we did, it was all worthwhile.