Do you
remember merry-go-rounds? Running as fast as you can along side one, the speed
would increase. Shrieks would flow out of your friends who were sitting on the
platform, you continued to run, trying to keep up, until you knew you just had
to let go and watch them speed by. This pretty much sums up my feelings at the
end of a school year.
While the start of the year is packed with special events, there is also the quiet time – the ease into what will be our transitions, schedules, patterns. Units are just beginning, I am learning my students, we seem to begin to meld together. I am typically a bit stressed, but also at peace. There is plenty of time left.
The end
of the year would be the polar opposite of that feeling. Transitions happen
effortlessly. My students know me well, read my body language, and know my
mood. Our schedule is packed. I feel like they are being pulled from me for so
many different special events when all I really want to do is shut the door,
pull up some books, and teach.
Each day the kids come in and ask – What crazy stuff is happening today? I sigh, look at the calendar, read off the new items added to our schedule, and mentally count the days left. Today I announced we had seven and a half days left. A student grinned at me and asked how much I thought I’d cry on that last day as they walked out the door.
Each day the kids come in and ask – What crazy stuff is happening today? I sigh, look at the calendar, read off the new items added to our schedule, and mentally count the days left. Today I announced we had seven and a half days left. A student grinned at me and asked how much I thought I’d cry on that last day as they walked out the door.
Why do you think I’ll cry, I asked.
Because you’re eyes have watered
every day this week when you’ve told us how many are left.
Allergies, I said.
And they all laughed.
Today’s over. Six and a half more. They are all on the merry-go-round, and I’m barely holding on as I run along beside them. I know I need to let go, but I just can’t. Yet.
