Yesterday was my last day of school. I have to tell you - it ended in tears. Not the gentle, graceful tears that are easily wiped away but sobs that flooded out and required tissues and shirt sleeves.
The realization that I wouldn't be around to see their future hit me like a punch in the gut. I've whispered in a few ears "Remember you are college material." Those girls may think I'm insane, but I realize there may not be someone at home talking it up. A lot of times there's someone at home shouting "Do you think you're better than me!" Three years from now, I won't be there to kindly smile and say "What college are you thinking of? Do you need a recommendation?" I realize I'm passing the baton on to the teachers who are staying. I trust they will say those words to the ones who need to hear it. I just wish I could be that one extra cheerleader.
What happens to a dream deferred?
by Langston Hughes
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
I suppose that poem is a little dramatic. But it rolls and rolls in my brain over and over.
The realization that teaching jobs aren't a dime a dozen hit me hard too. Maybe I'll end up in another school. Maybe I'll end up going back to graduate school. Maybe I'll end up finish that Spanish degree.
I may need a new poem to think about.
1 comment:
Sometimes we all need a new poem; a new tangent in life. Here are a couple of snippets of things I've seen on the net that seemed inspirational to me:
look beyond the winter chill to smell the breath of spring
give possibilities to the impossible
Perhaps they will inspire the poet in you to leave behind what you must and strike off into the future with gusto -- continue the poem, so to speak.
The last day of the past is the first day of the future - mourn it; embrace it.
And remember, you can face all things -- you are a Minnesota Lady!
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