Last Day of School

Today was the last day of school.  Honestly, I thought it would never get here.  This has been, hands down, the longest year of my life!  From last July 11 until today- I thought school would never be over.  The weird thing is that two weeks ago I was just barely hanging on to what little sanity I had left.  I couldn’t wait to get these kids out of my room and on to middle school.  At the beginning of the week I was still feeling the same way: “Lord, help me to keep from killing one of these kids!”  

Wednesday rolled around and it was a different story (for a couple hours at least).  Ever year there are a couple things I do with each class. The day of the ceremony I sit them down and read two things: a copy of the speech “Wear Sunscreen” and talk to them about the most important elements for a rising 6th grader (loving yourself for who you are and talking to your family).  The other thing I read is the book Oh, the Places You’ll Go! by Dr. Seuss.  My mom cries just thinking of me reading that book to the kids!  I didn’t make it through this year without breaking into tears.  It’s the last few lines of the book that killed me as I thought back over how hard the year was:

“KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!
So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!

And as I started to cry at the last line I looked up and simply stated the obvious: “You guys are leaving me and getting on your way.”  And as I tried to explain that I was happy and so sad to see them all go I looked up and realized a few of them were crying too.  

Before we got the that point, though the day before they have the big “Recognition Ceremony” I make them write a 4 paragraph reflection on the year.  The basic prompts are things like: “My favorite thing this year was…” or “My least favorite thing this year was” or “I wish I would have know <insert idea here> before I started 5th grade…”  The final paragraph has to start like this: “I am most proud of <insert idea here> because…”  Now this is never an easy thing to do and I always get groans and grumbles.  I tell the kids they have to give me 6-10 sentences per paragraph and if it isn’t “middle school worthy” then I will give it back and make them do it again.  I want them to put thought into the whole thing.  Things are always changing with each class, but basically they stay the same.  Many of them loved the projects and games I try to incorporate into the curriculum to make things more fun.  Most say that writing or social studies is still their least favorite (although the kids this year really liked it in the end).  And most of the kids tend to say they are most proud of themselves and list what great things they have done (and I tend to agree).

I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of how bad this year was for me in terms of my classroom.  I wrote at the beginning of the year, but quickly decided that I couldn’t write much more for a lot of reasons.  The kid who was such a problem is being held back to repeat 5th grade, just as I knew he would be, despite the best efforts of EVERYONE at the school to get him to succeed.  There are kids that I will miss very much, but some I won’t miss at all.  Even feeling that way, though, I realized that my impact on some of my students this year was more profound because of the mayhem and chaos we all experienced this year.  I say this because, as I sat and read their reflections on Tuesday evening, I was speechless by the time I got to the end of the reflections.

About half of my kids did in fact say they were proud of themselves.  They should be; many of them grew A LOT this year and have finally starting taking responsibility for the things they do (or choose not to do).  They listed all the things I would have told them made me proud of them.  These are smart kids and they know when to give themselves a good pat on the back.  I need to preface the next part by saying that when I have the kids write these reflections I do not allow them to talk to each other.  They have to sit and write and be quiet so they can think hard and examine the year and be honest with themselves and with me.  So, it isn’t as though they got to talk it over with each other.  They didn’t even have any idea I was going to have them write the reflection until I started writing on the board.

The other half of my kids (9 of them) finished the sentence in ways like this:
“I am most proud of Ms. M this year because she was patient with us even when we were really not very nice or good to her.
“I am most proud of Ms. M this year because she stayed calm with certain kids when she didn’t have to.  I know I was really angry a lot with some kids and she must have been too.  She always stayed calm and it must have been really hard for her.”
“I am most proud of Ms. M this year because she taught me how to like writing a little more and I didn’t think I would ever like it.”
“I am most proud of Ms. M this year because she didn’t give up on me.”

There are others, but I left the rest at school.  I had no idea what I was going to say in my speech to the parents and students on Wednesday during the ceremony.  This year was so hard and I wanted to end it on a high note, but I just didn’t have the words.  I decided to highlight how proud I was of all of them for how far we had all come together, as individuals but even more so as a class.  I wanted to acknowledge those reflections in front of the parents so that they could see what great kids they had.  Sometimes we forget to notice what a great person a kid really is.  It was near the end of the speech, when my voice caught.  And just as I was telling the parents about those wonderful reflections (“You have smart children who have come so far this year and I am so proud of them!  However I have to say that it was a shock and a blessing to read from some of them….”) my voice gave out and I simply couldn’t talk because I was starting to cry as I said that so many of them stated they were proudest of me this year.  

I guess in the long run, it is better to cry in front of an entire gym full of parents and 5th grades (principal standing right next to me and the new superintendent of schools for the county in the audience) and show them how much I really do care for their children, than to have no emotion at all and hate my job for all the wrong reasons instead of sometimes hating teaching for all the right ones.  Needless to say, I had parents who were from other classrooms coming up to me afterward to just say how much the loved what I said and how it was wonderful to see how heartfelt it was.  

In just about 10 days I will have a new class.   I will start the whole process over again and I have veteran teachers telling me that I will never have a class like the one I just finished with (in the sense of how bad it was).  Maybe I won’t, but maybe I will.  Either way, at least I know I made some impact.  There is nothing more powerful for a teacher than a student expressing how proud they are of the teacher.