Out of the Nest

This was my 6th year as a teacher. In those 6 years, getting along with and having a positive rapport with my administrators was nothing to make note of. It is different now.

The school year 2011-2012, was by far, the worst year of my career. I was going through a divorce, and was basically absent. Not only in body (I missed an embarrassingly high number of days), but even when I was technically present, my head and heart were somewhere else. It didn't help matters that this was my first experience in a general education classroom. While I had been a special education teacher for 4 years prior, I discovered how naive I was about what goes on in a general classroom. To say I was overwhelmed, would be a significant understatement. While this was all happening, my principal was calm and relaxed with me. I remember her having a short, frank, conversation towards the end of that school year with me about how absent I was. I remember feeling incredibly embarrassed, and told her I would try my best to improve, and that I was going through a lot, and I knew that the kids deserved more. This was the only conversation we ever had about it.

I thought about not returning to the same school. I was offered a position in Hawaii, Maui to be exact. I know what you're thinking - "What the hell is wrong with her!?" Trust me, when the winter rains have been going for 6 months, I ask myself the same thing. However, the conversation I had with that principal was so cold, so unwelcoming, and I had such icky feelings from her, that I turned it down. I thought back to my principal... I remember something my cohort leader told us in graduate school, "The principal sets the tone for the building. Find someone you respect and that respects you." My current principal was this person.

That entire shitty year, she had supported me. She wasn't up in my face, she wasn't sending me angry emails. She quietly let me have my shitty year. I respected her, and I wanted her to be proud of me. This sounds silly and juvenile for a professional to say, but it is the truth. I respected her because she was up front, she didn't keep secrets from staff, she trusted us, she valued our opinions, she was a strong leader and didn't back down when faced with difficult decisions. When a parent was unreasonable, she fully supported the teacher. This is the kind of principal you want, the kind a teacher dreams of. Perhaps it is because someone with my background was never supposed to finish high school, certainly not go to college, and the thought that I would have a masters degree was well, insane. I think I don't believe it myself sometimes. I see this woman as a strong, independent, educated, leader! She is my role model. I am sure it is still the scared child that seeks validation, but there it is. Hopefully someday, I can validate myself, but for now, I rely on my leaders.

But, she is moving to a new school. Just as I feel comfortable with her. Just as I completed, what I think to be, my most successful, happy, and productive school year thus far, she is transferring to another school. When she told me, I was stunned. I thought she was joking around. I felt a rush of fear take over, and sadness fill me up from my heart outward. Then the tears came. And the thoughts, "How can I do this without her?" "How can our school survive without this woman?" "Dammit, I am so out of here!""I don't want to be here without her!" I was honestly surprised at my reaction. I didn't realize how much she meant to me. I have never had feelings like this for an administrator.

Thankfully, I have also developed close friends/colleagues also, and we have talked a bit since about this situation. I have realized I feel like a baby bird being kicked out its nest. I don't feel ready. I am terrified of having another shitty year. I am terrified of not continuing the greatness of this past year. I guess, when it comes down to it, I am terrified of disappointing people. I am terrified that a new principal will come in and be the worst. I am terrified I don't have the skills to do this. I am just scared. Change is hard. I wish her the very best. But I selfishly wish she would stay. I need her. Our school needs her. Can we continue this positive energy without her? Only time will tell.

End of the School Year

This time, it was different. This time, I felt something deep in my heart. This time, they moved me to tears.

It all came flooding over me at about 2:55pm, 5 minutes before the bell was going to ring, signalling the end of another school year. 6 years, I have been doing this, and the previous 5 had never brought me to tears. Year 6 changed that. Year 6 was the year I finally felt like I knew what I was doing in the classroom. This was the year that I finally felt like a teacher.

Thinking back on what the classroom was like at the beginning of the year: kids that knew their letters, but not how to blend them into words. Kids that could write their name, but not their thoughts. Kids that had basic math skills ready to build their foundation of knowledge. I was scared. The year before, I was so absent. Absent in body and mind. I failed before. This time, we succeeded. And "we" is the word so needed in this business of teaching.

I came to realize, on the last day of school, that this was the first year that I taught and I wasn't married. I didn't have a partner at home. I was on my own this year. With that said, over these last 10 months, I have built the most special, rewarding, exciting, and loving relationships that I have ever had in my life. I feel honored and blessed to call so many of my colleagues friends. We can laugh at ourselves and each other without fear. We can critique one another and grow together without guilt or shame. These friendships have changed me and helped me grow professionally as well as personally.

I can confidently say, that I taught these children how to read. I gave them a gift that no one can take away. I gave them freedom. I gave them hope. Don't misunderstand me, it has taken a village of teachers, counselors, principals, and parents to do this. I do not get all the credit. But I do get to stand proud as one of the contributors of this success.

So, at 2:55pm, I looked over the sea of little faces. I told them I loved them. Many of my kids come from rough homes and backgrounds. I worry that many of them are not told they are loved nearly as often as they should. I wanted them to know that someone loves them, I love them. We don't often talk this way as teachers, but maybe we should. Maybe the world needs us to state our truth of love. I love these children. I want the very best for them. Most importantly, these kids need to hear and know that someone in this world loves them.

With that sentiment being poured out, I saw one of my little ones crying, and then I lost it. Tears flowing down my face, my heart breaking, knowing that after the bell rings, things would never be the same. Sure, they will say "Hi, Ms Amy!" to me in the hallway, or smile and wave, but it will never ever be the same. They will have a new "Best Teacher Ever", and I will receive a new classroom to love. I savored their spirits, we hugged and cried together. And with that, I let them go.

This year, I became a teacher.