Last Day of School

I thought the last day of school would be happier. I have been looking forward to it for a really long time. It represented the end of planning, grading, managing "challenging" students, and having to deal with the rampant idiocy surrounding me. Instead it came as a bit of a letdown and was for more introspective than celebratory.

During our "staff celebration" today, my principal publicly handed out pens to the teachers who were leaving my school this year. This group of teachers includes the vast majority of the bright and innovative ones under age 30. When she got to me, she announced that I had made it through a difficult year.

I don't like that description as the be all and end all.

My year had many difficulties (the majority being the fault of my administration) but it was not difficult in its entirely. There are many good things that happened this past year. I made meaningful personal connections with most of my students. I continually learned how to be a better teacher. I made the transition from bad teacher to decent teacher. I learned things about myself that I could never get anywhere else. I learned from my students. I learned from my failures. I sometimes even learned from grad school.

This year was difficult. But it was not only difficult. That's all I am saying.

The thing that got me was how my students responded to my announcement that I was leaving and moving to another district. I expected them to be happy. I expected a few students to think they drove me out of the school, which is so not the case. That did happen to some extent but it was rare.

The reactions were far different than expected.

Many of my students were saddened and/or angered by my decision to leave. That was surprising. I didn't they cared what happened to me.

The reaction that got me most was the resigned acceptance shown by the majority. They were saddened but not enough to get themselves worked up over it. These were the kids who on the last day wrote down all the names of the teachers who were leaving and didn't seem fazed when the number was solidly in the double-digits. They knew the massive teacher turnover in their school was normal. They know their school is a crappy place to work, especially for those with other, often more lucrative or academically stimulating, options in front of them. They know that their teachers are fleeing to other districts. They see the stream of their most talented teachers walking out the door, alienated and angry, and just suck it up.

I know that I made the right decision. I had to leave to save my mind. I can't handle another year here if things continue as they are and under the constant, condescending pressure I was under. I wish my school could be run better. I wish I could stay. It's not my choice.

It breaks my heart.

I need to relax. Summer school starts in a little over two weeks and I need to be rested up. I need some more kids to get attached to.