This time of year is always fraught with mixed feelings. Part of me wants the year to draw to an end and summer to come, with it's relaxed play, fun projects and extended outdoor time. Dogs, goats, chickens, gardens, woods, water ...all good!
The other part of me is caught by the heartbreak of loss. I can feel tears well up at odd moments when it occurs to me that things will be very different next fall. All of my dearest, most familiar classroom friends will be gone.
We have spent three years, day in and day out, with these children. They came to us just out of toddlerhood, barely speaking, running on chubby legs, full of hugs, laughter and tears. They leave us as tall, slender, well spoken, competent six year olds, independent, compassionate, helpful, trustworthy, defining our little society. Each carries their own gift of self. One is watchful, a helpful activist. One is highly motivated, driven by inner goals. One is thoughtful, considering the big questions of our world, deep and philosophical. One is sarcastic and sees the humor in every situation - casting a knowing eye at me often during the day. One is a merry soul, full of imaginative dreams and song. All of them have become so very precious.
Who in this next group will be the thinker, the lover, the worker, the dramatist? We don't yet know. After all these years, we do know that the next group will be every bit as wonderful as the last, but in a different way. We know that parents will become friends, but we will miss old friends. The bottom line is that everything will be fine, but nothing will ever be the same.
This is painful. There is little comfort in keeping in touch, kids do come back and we love to see them but there is always a hollow feeling that we have lost them to the great big world. We stay and they go. It's as it should be, and we have all done our jobs. There is nothing more to say, and like you, we rejoice in their growth and accomplishment. But this month, it's hard. This month we will wipe away tears at odd moments. Because we love our kids and our families.
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Connie, Judy, and Tate,
ReplyDeleteI feel similarly about watching my students graduate from college (minus the incoming chubby legs). Each year, kids leave with a little piece of your heart and your life, and you wonder how you can keep pouring your life into a river that is forever leaving. But you do, and that giving is fulfilling and refilling. You also have us parents to remind our kids of the voice of Connie/ Conscience in their heads-- "Hm, What Would Connie Say about that?" (wwcs?)--for years to come. So although they may disappear after graduation, you reside in their brains for life (as my pre-school teacher, Mrs. Miller, inhabits mine).
Connie, Judy, & Tate,
ReplyDeleteWe're not graduating yet, but I know the feeling of teaching a group of students for 3 years, and seeing them off into the big world, with mixed emotions (I taught middle school for 8 years).
You all work so hard for and with our kids, and the emotion behind your words are the reason people send their kids to your school. You spend so much time with these kids, not just teaching them academics, but most importantly, teaching them to be responsible, independent, competent little people, all done with a lot of nurturing and love.
So thank you, and I agree with the above post...they'll never forget!