The year is winding down. With very few school days remaining, some decisions I’ve had to make are weighing heavy on my heart. In times like these I tend to isolate myself. Guilt wraps itself around me when the need for advice or security is present. Needless to say, I’ve been negligent toward everything in my life that doesn’t revolve around keeping my head above water.
I should have a new contract at a new school at this time next week. I will explain this in more detail later (after my signature is permanent), but a position at a better district was offered and I’ve accepted it. Now I’m waiting on the approval of the board of education. While it’s typically a formality, I’ve been burned by the board before. I’m hesitant to make such announcements because of this, but tonight I knew that I needed to release the stress. To share with someone. Because I hate putting this pressure on those around me, I’m sharing with anyone that’s still reading my posts.
Statistics are said to prove a lot of things. They prove that this school has students of higher intelligence than my current school. They prove that teachers stay there longer. And that I will probably make this a place I stay for as long as they’ll have me.
Summer is around the corner. I’m catching glimpses of it in the sky. The temperature is steadying, the rain is weakening, and my inner child is ready to celebrate the return of a dear friend. This summer, however, will start with a bit of anxiety. I need to find a new place to live. I need to be fiscally responsible enough to pay for said place with my current salary (until August when my new contract brings more money). And I need to do both of those things, along with packing and cleaning the old place, in less than two weeks. It’s scary. It’s stressful. It’s so very exciting too.
Delilah may need to find another job for a few weeks. I’ve become the queen of sappy love songs. The truth is that I’m already missing my seniors. They, literally, spent hours in my classroom every day (don’t ask me what their teachers thought they were doing. I really don’t know). Now, I’m reminded of their absence by silence and empty desks. I miss the fuck out of them. My two kids.
One came to school today to visit. She sat with me for two hours. We didn’t really get to talk much; I still had to do my job. But her being there meant the world to me and made my day so much better. I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do without her next year. I think that scares me more than anything. The amount of love I put into that relationship is incomparable to any before her…and I’m afraid that I can’t give that much to any after either.
I’ve always said that I compare myself to a parent, and it’s always been true. But this last week I’ve felt everything that my ‘real’ parent friends have described. A sickening sense of pride, an overwhelming sense of joy, and a real sense of loss. My baby is growing up and leaving the nest. In a way, I’m feeling pretty empty. At the same time, I’m feeling so proud and excited for her that my unhappiness has taken a back seat. I can’t wrap words around the feeling. It’s just there. And, until you’ve felt it, you really can’t understand. I realize that now. It’s an incredible feeling and I’m so thankful that I’ve been given the opportunity to experience it.
The coolest part? I didn’t even have to spit a kid out of my vagina.
The stereo is my only friend right now. Every song speaks to me. It reminds me of a moment in time when I shared something with one of my kids. It makes me question my decision to leave this school. Yet, at the same time, I know that I need to. It’s perfect timing, really. With my seniors leaving, it’s almost as if my time in this place is over. I’ve done what they needed me to do.
New beginnings are scary, but they are worth it.