As anticipated, I bordered on weeping through two readings of Oh, the Places You'll Go today (Students' conversation regarding this: "Ms [Me], are you really crying?" "Shut up, Matt. Girls are emotional.") As I chose the worst timing in the afternoon (i.e., right after an "I'm so disappointed in you guys" speech because someone broke my brand new Method spray bottle and left it for dead yesterday), I wasn't feeling too sentimental so I made it through without much pomp and circumstance. I'm saving all my high school advice for Thursday, when I'll really have them in class for the last time.
I wrote each of my students a good-bye note on the back of the class pictures we took in January. I tried hard to recall something special about each of them. Some notes are longer than others, but that's the nature of human interactions, no? By the way, before you start assuming I'm trying to be some kind of martyr, it's much easier to write 65 notes as compared to my colleagues' 130 students a day. The block schedule affords these perks and I can't say I'd be willing to write if I had double the amount of kids.
Well, this is it. Today was our last full day. Thursday is graduation. Friday is our last day of the year. I leave for California Saturday morning.
There's so much to process that I can't even begin yet. For now, I'll say that I'm wondering who I'll be next year, without the 65 kids who changed my life. There's only one way to find out. . .
The most beautiful word in the English language to me right now? Unencumbered.