The Closing Door
So, I have been officially retired for one week. My last day at school was Friday, June 30, 2017. One full week ago. It seems like a year ago! Time to reflect.
The Last Week of School
Yes, there were some surreal moments: The last full class I taught - Canadian History; the last exam invigilation - Law 12; the last set of marks I had to enter - no tears there! All of these were milestones marking the ending of my career; a career I lost for 14 years and never thought that I would ever regain. A career that has given my most rewarding and uplifting moments as well as those of utter frustration, anger and despair. So, no wonder, then, that the last week of school was full of moments where I felt like I was a spectator at a movie of my own life.
Prom
I am NOT a crier. Not usually! Oh..yah..movies with sad endings, happy endings and the odd concert or sunset will get me going, but during my everyday life..nope...not a crier! Not even at the Minions' prom did I succumb to outbreak of sobbing that hit me from out in left field at this Prom. I only went with the intention to see the kids come in and then leave. Fine. No problem! Suddenly, a familiar face popped through the doors and flew up to me; "I had to come see you Miss! I heard you retiring!" Isaiah Farmer - one of 3 brothers that I taught, and I know I had him in at least 3 classes. He graduated in 2015. I always get emotional when they come back to see me, but this time the waterworks really started....and kept going! We hugged and took pictures outside, and I thought I would get control - wrong! "The Squad" arrived, looking so beautiful and handsome; I was a blubbering fool! "Mom! Don't cry!" I guess it really hit me how big of a part of my life these kids had been and how much I was going to miss seeing them every day, listening to their love life woes, cracking up at their crazy jokes, giving them hell and being amazed at their passion and determination. I cried all the way home from the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. My LAST Prom :(
Grad
Prom was on Monday night so the week was long for me. I did not have to plan for September; photocopy outlines, get my lessons prepped for the first two weeks of school; tidy my room. I sat in my empty, quiet room - the room with the best breeze in the building - and reflected on all the kids who had been entrusted to me over my 8 years at PA. Some I could picture, but could not name, but they all came to visit me through my memories over the 3 days before Grad. I made my peace with any failings that I may have had as their teacher and mentor and understood that I had done well, because I had taught them with my heart, my conviction, and with their best interests always on my mind.
I was the MC at Grad. I saw many people I knew; some former students who had siblings graduating. Unlike Prom, I was calm, distant and focused. I remember the piper asking me what to play as she piped us in. "Scotland the Brave" was my instant reply. And we were off! The ceremony went off without a hitch or a tear. I even put aside my convictions surrounding a contentious statement that we are being force fed, and did not omit it from my script; I no longer cared. Mention of the retiring teachers was completely omitted during the Principal's address - no surprise there - but I managed to get it in at the end in a way that included all of us who were leaving that day: Just as I am a product of my high school, Bridgewater Jr/ Sr. High, so they will be forever marked by PA; so marked will also be the teachers of PA. To be a teacher is to touch lives and be touched by them. As I watched the students toss their mortarboards into the air, I was touched once again.
Standing in the old gym amongst a sea of blue clad, energized and emotional grads, I felt distant, apart; the familiar disassociation that precedes a panic attack, I quietly slipped out, unnoticed. and drove home in a daze. I was told I did a great job as MC. Thank you. So will the person next year. I am under no illusion that I will not be forgotten as fast as last year's acronyms. It is the way of life.
The Last Day
I did not want to go on the last day, but I was told I had to. So I did. I am glad I did. They came back one last time: the kids whom I taught but were just moving to another grade came to thank me, to hug me, or just to hangout in my room one last time. Alyssa Gauvin and Sam Boutilier came; I thought they were just hanging out, then in walked Brett Conlan with a cake for us. The tears were close. "We'll Always Have Peru!" read the writing on top of the cake. Shaye Tilley joined us as we reminisced about that amazing trip where I learned first hand how kind, generous and supportive my kids were. I will miss the chance to show the world to young people
There is no other traveling like it!
The final gathering of the staff. There are a few I will miss, but in general I know I was not a good "team" player. I am not a "joiner" so I do not feel that I will be overly missed by most. I respect and think highly of the vast majority of my colleagues and I wish them all every success in dealing with the emotional, professional and personal demands that this job entails.
I walked back to my classroom and said Good-bye to Room 201. Room 201 has been a History classroom for over 30 years. Now the door closes. literally and figuratively, on that legacy. History has almost gone the way of the dinosaurs; and I have become one because I believe in the value of teaching History, REAL History, not Social Justice disguised as History. There is a place and need for both in education, but sadly, one is being discarded. Room 201 will now become a Math room, along with most of what used to be the Social Studies wing...so very sad. Yes, it was time for me to leave. Perhaps, I will have to Sub in the fall if all does not go as planned, but I will never walk into MY classroom again. I flicked off the lights and did not look back. The door closed; McLeod has left the building.
The Last Week of School
 |
| The Retirees |
Yes, there were some surreal moments: The last full class I taught - Canadian History; the last exam invigilation - Law 12; the last set of marks I had to enter - no tears there! All of these were milestones marking the ending of my career; a career I lost for 14 years and never thought that I would ever regain. A career that has given my most rewarding and uplifting moments as well as those of utter frustration, anger and despair. So, no wonder, then, that the last week of school was full of moments where I felt like I was a spectator at a movie of my own life.
Prom
I am NOT a crier. Not usually! Oh..yah..movies with sad endings, happy endings and the odd concert or sunset will get me going, but during my everyday life..nope...not a crier! Not even at the Minions' prom did I succumb to outbreak of sobbing that hit me from out in left field at this Prom. I only went with the intention to see the kids come in and then leave. Fine. No problem! Suddenly, a familiar face popped through the doors and flew up to me; "I had to come see you Miss! I heard you retiring!" Isaiah Farmer - one of 3 brothers that I taught, and I know I had him in at least 3 classes. He graduated in 2015. I always get emotional when they come back to see me, but this time the waterworks really started....and kept going! We hugged and took pictures outside, and I thought I would get control - wrong! "The Squad" arrived, looking so beautiful and handsome; I was a blubbering fool! "Mom! Don't cry!" I guess it really hit me how big of a part of my life these kids had been and how much I was going to miss seeing them every day, listening to their love life woes, cracking up at their crazy jokes, giving them hell and being amazed at their passion and determination. I cried all the way home from the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. My LAST Prom :(
 |
| The Squad |
Grad
Prom was on Monday night so the week was long for me. I did not have to plan for September; photocopy outlines, get my lessons prepped for the first two weeks of school; tidy my room. I sat in my empty, quiet room - the room with the best breeze in the building - and reflected on all the kids who had been entrusted to me over my 8 years at PA. Some I could picture, but could not name, but they all came to visit me through my memories over the 3 days before Grad. I made my peace with any failings that I may have had as their teacher and mentor and understood that I had done well, because I had taught them with my heart, my conviction, and with their best interests always on my mind.
 |
| My Empty Room |
Standing in the old gym amongst a sea of blue clad, energized and emotional grads, I felt distant, apart; the familiar disassociation that precedes a panic attack, I quietly slipped out, unnoticed. and drove home in a daze. I was told I did a great job as MC. Thank you. So will the person next year. I am under no illusion that I will not be forgotten as fast as last year's acronyms. It is the way of life.
The Last Day
I did not want to go on the last day, but I was told I had to. So I did. I am glad I did. They came back one last time: the kids whom I taught but were just moving to another grade came to thank me, to hug me, or just to hangout in my room one last time. Alyssa Gauvin and Sam Boutilier came; I thought they were just hanging out, then in walked Brett Conlan with a cake for us. The tears were close. "We'll Always Have Peru!" read the writing on top of the cake. Shaye Tilley joined us as we reminisced about that amazing trip where I learned first hand how kind, generous and supportive my kids were. I will miss the chance to show the world to young people
The final gathering of the staff. There are a few I will miss, but in general I know I was not a good "team" player. I am not a "joiner" so I do not feel that I will be overly missed by most. I respect and think highly of the vast majority of my colleagues and I wish them all every success in dealing with the emotional, professional and personal demands that this job entails.
I walked back to my classroom and said Good-bye to Room 201. Room 201 has been a History classroom for over 30 years. Now the door closes. literally and figuratively, on that legacy. History has almost gone the way of the dinosaurs; and I have become one because I believe in the value of teaching History, REAL History, not Social Justice disguised as History. There is a place and need for both in education, but sadly, one is being discarded. Room 201 will now become a Math room, along with most of what used to be the Social Studies wing...so very sad. Yes, it was time for me to leave. Perhaps, I will have to Sub in the fall if all does not go as planned, but I will never walk into MY classroom again. I flicked off the lights and did not look back. The door closed; McLeod has left the building.
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