Although teachers ended their school year on Tuesday, June 11th, I spent the next three days packing up my classroom. By 1:00 p.m. on Friday, June 14th, nine years of memories had been removed, boxed up and loaded into my 1997 station wagon I have lovingly dubbed, "The Big Red Whale." I never realized just how much of a person's personality hangs on the walls of their classroom. When I was finally finished, it was stark, drab and extremely sterile-looking. It was also painfully empty. I cried as I ate my lunch out in the hallway. The A/C had been shut off to conserve electricity. The only place I could breathe was out in the hallway.
Once the car was loaded, it was time for me to turn in my classroom key. My principal happened to be covering the front desk when it was time for me to leave. I had bagged my key in a plastic sandwich bag (I use sandwich bags to collect teeth from my little guys when they drop out of their mouths in class. The Tooth Fairy is still rather important at this age.) I had written my room number and name on a bright green piece of paper and stuffed it into the bag with the key. As I handed the bag to my principal, her bottom lip drooped and she said, "This all seems so final."
Yes. I guess it is.
I'm still debating whether or not to begin a new blog that chronicle's my life as a high school chorus teacher or continue what I began here four years ago. I guess I still have some time to think about it.
Until next time...
1 comment:
If my opinion matters any, I'd say stay with this blog. I, too, have wondered about changing as my job roles change, but have decided that each post chronicles a part of me as an educator, so I've stayed put. :)
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