Emotional Storm

Okay. Now it feels like it's over.

Seven years ago I had my hardest last day of school, saying goodbye to the group that was, and still is, my favorite class overall. Not every kid in there was a favorite, but they came together to make my best group. Saying goodbye was rough that year. This year's group (again, as a whole) does not measure up to that class. Not even close. But the end of this year has easily been the most emotional one I've had since I let that Favorite Class go. The past five days have all added up to one big hog-pile of emotional closure for me. Some backstory:

**Back on Tuesday was the annual 5th grade end of the year field trip to a nearby community center. Swimming pool, basketball court, indoor playground, concession stand - what more do you want if you're eleven? It's a trip I've been on so many times I could sleepwalk through it, but every year has it's memorable moments. Two things stood out this year: For the bus ride down and back I sat in front of one of my shining stars, who peppered me with so many questions about my life I began to wonder if she had landed some kind of summer internship for 11-year-olds at Vanity Fair. She's a preternaturally intelligent and mature little girl so the whole thing was amusing, and for the most part I indulged her questions. Some were pretty deep, and some bordered on less than appropriate; for instance when she began thinking about whether or not she knew any single women she could set me up with.

The other memorable moment? Let's just say there are always kids who think it's funny to hop out of the pool and immediately hug you to see how wet they can get you. And one kid this year thought it was funny six times over. I don't think I was completely dry until we had returned to school.

**The actual last day of school was pretty calm, considering. A few thank you cards and gifts, some flowers. All I wanted on my last day was minimal stupidity and closure, but I accepted moderate stupidity (I knew minimal was too much to ask for) and just as much closure as I wanted -- almost. I was happy for my students to be so happy on the last day. Most of them I really enjoyed, and even if I won't necessarily miss them I was very glad I got to work with them. There are, of course, some I won't miss at all, and in most of those cases I feel a little trepidation for them because I know how hard the road ahead is going to be. And then there were the ones that I know I'll miss. The aforementioned interviewer, another girl who always made me laugh, a boy I've known his whole life that just happened to be in class this year (though I won't really miss him much since I know he'll still be peripherally a part of my life for years to come), a girl who was nothing but happy, quiet, sweet, and hard-working, and another kid with a sense of humor nearly as dry and straight-faced as mine. At least one of those will be occupying a space on the seating chart of my all-star class of favorite students. Her final goodbye had an odd little hiccup to it, but the resolution to it all was really beautiful and even more meaningful than it would have been anyway. So I felt good about turning them loose and letting them all go.

**The kids leaving only opened up another version of the end. This year our school went through a shuffle that had grade levels reassigned to different areas of the building for a number of reasons. I'm personally thrilled about this because my new classroom is an enormous upgrade, but it did feel odd to pack up everything and move it down the hall. Luckily 5th graders are big and could do a lot of the carrying for me before they left.

**The final days without the students also brought the final day with our principal, who has been with us for eleven years. She wasn't always everyone's favorite, but I will miss her. She was inarguably an excellent manager and brought great opportunity to our building. She made me a better teacher, and even worked hard to convince me I was worthy of a teaching award I had won when I wasn't sure I was. She offered me incredible personal support through the deaths of my sister and a student of mine from earlier this year. I have no reason to be nervous about the new principal coming in, but I do regret giving up one who did the job so well.

**And if that wasn't enough change for one year, I also had to live with knowing that when the year starts up again, a good friend I've been able to closely work with for the past six years had been reassigned to another building. I don't see the rationale behind putting a person in the position where they have to push uphill to earn trust and then send them off somewhere to do it all again just as progress is being made, and personally I will completely miss having this person in my life. But I suppose someone had a reason, and she'll do good work wherever she goes. She sent out a final e-mail to everyone wishing us well but not saying goodbye, but I'll be more pragmatic about it: It's still a goodbye, regardless of which synonym gets used. And it sucks. I felt so used up by everything that had occurred over those last four days that instead of meeting up at a colleague's house for a staff end-of-the-year party, I went home, fell asleep on the couch before 7:00 P.M. and didn't wake up until the late news had nearly ended.

**And then there was today, circling back to that favorite class and one of the defining personalities from it. This was the year that class graduated, and I was invited to three graduation open houses from that group. I really can't express how humbling it is when that happens, when seven years after the fact someone wants to include you in that celebration. The first one I received came from another student with a seat in the Dream Class. She had stopped by after school one day to drop off my invitation but had to get to her job so she arranged to come by and visit later after the students had finished and she had graduated. She came by just as I had finished moving into my new room, and we got to sit and catch up for a good hour. Which was awesome, because I knew she'd be the center of the world at her open house and I'd only get a little bit of time with her. She told me about her senior piano recital coming up on Saturday and invited me, and of course I went. The open house was great enough, but to be one of maybe 20 people who got to be there for that was really amazing, not to mention she's got some serious chops when it comes to playing.

Here's a story to illustrate why she became so important: She and I had been e-mailing occasionally when my sister was sick. When she died, this little girl came back to my classroom when I was still out dealing with funeral business and left me a gift: She passed on a teddy bear to me that she had been given by firefighters to comfort her when she had broken her arm as a small child. She figured that I needed it more than she did now. Easily the most significant thing anyone at all did for me in that whole time. And a coda to that story that I was so happy I could share with her: This past fall when my little pal Kyle died, I took that same bear and passed it on to his older sister, just a week or two before Kyle passed. I told her the story of where it came from and said, "I think this is supposed to be yours now." I'd like to think she'll hang onto it for awhile, and pass it along to someone else when the time comes.

So it's been quite a week. And I loved seeing a quote posted on Facebook by a friend of mine, who was commenting on all of the change and sadness that can accompany the end of something important. Reading that helped me close it all off and happily move on:

"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." These days, I'm smiling a lot.