Closing out year 3

If you are a student, a teacher, or have kids in school, you understand the cyclical nature of education.

I feel like a gypsy teacher. For the past 3 years I have roamed and taught where God led. Each year, I invested all I could into the students and brought my wares into a bare canvas... the classroom. That classroom became my classroom.

The beginning of the year always starts the same. There's a rush to get ready. You're not quite sure what you're doing (even if you've done it before). The students are nervous and you're anxious to build a rapport with them. You focus a lot of energy on decorating the classroom and trying to get organized. (Note: photos are from my first year)

By the middle of the year, you've hit a stride. You have a system that works. The honeymoon period is over, you know which students need some extra positive support and which ones you can trust with their work (and your desk supplies). Making sure the classroom is decorated is an afterthought, if you think of it at all. Your initial organization techniques have fallen by a wayside for whatever works. For me: if it's piled on my desk and not filed away, it's on the to-do list.

At the end of the year, you're beginning to close things out with assessments and evaluations. Student and staff emotions run high. You see the fruit of all your work and care as you reflect on how the year started. He used to... Now he... At the beginning of the year, she... Now she... You say goodbye to the students, some are sad and some are just anxious for summer!

Then in a few months, it repeats itself.

Teachers don't do this to become financial moguls, we do it because we love it. We love teaching, learning, impacting students, seeing progress, thinking creatively, and seeing students become more of who they are.

Yesterday, I completed another year. I said goodbye to my students and coworkers, packed up everything, and felt a strong sense of deja vu as I saw the room return to its original state. I was thankful that my husband came to help me pack up.

I don't feel like I have words to describe what it all felt like... Those final moments when everything had been loaded into my car and I looked at the darkened classroom. My desk that had previously been covered with papers was bare. Everything was quiet and Brandon held my hand. Change is so hard, but having worked in 5 different schools and moving 7 times in the past 5 years, it feels refreshing and almost comfortable.

This post feels mostly incoherent, but that's where I'm at right now.