2009
Today, the best students I've ever had the good fortune to teach have graduated from eighth grade to ninth.
The high schools are blessed to have them. I will miss them dearly. My heart hurts and I'm melancholy, but in a good way.
I've yet to fully process their absence. It's difficult for me to comprehend that these wonderful, exuberant young people who have been a part of my daily life for two years have now moved on. We won't see them every day in the halls. We won't get the play by play account of their lives, nor will we see their performances in band, or choir, or theater, or in the talent show. This is the hardest part of being a teacher, I think. I've never been good at letting go. I worry, and I wonder. A comfort for me is that we'll have the familiar faces of our current students to keep us nattering away. Next year, we'll marvel about how much they are growing, and how mature, and how interesting.
It is as it should be, of course. Time moves along, and their lives grow and gain momentum as they propel forward through life's resplendent journey. Each one is a brilliant star, full of hope, full of potential. I really believe they will one day light the way. Many of them have already begun.
And my seventh graders who are now moving to eighth: we survived the year, stronger now, and smarter. You've proven yourselves able and more. You made it, and I'm both proud and impressed.
Love and peace,
Ms. H
x-posted to myspace and livejournal.
Also, now that the school year is officially over... I might get some of my life back. We teachers live half-lives during the year.
