I spent my first two years in New Jersey before returning to Pennsylvania. After earning my M.Ed. at Duquesne University, I spent the next 7 years at Woodland Hills, just outside of Pittsburgh before moving to my new district at the beginning of this year.
In all of that time, I have experienced a plethora of emotions at both the start and end of the school year. Most of those years have been a mixture of sadness at watching my students move on, pride at watching my students move on, and relief and joy at not having to get up at 5 am, worry about lessons, teen drama and being able to wear shorts, t-shirts and sandals.
The last student day approaches, building to a crescendo like the wind in an oncoming hurricane. The winds of chaos increase steadily until that last day when garments are torn, teeth are gnashed, and everyone generally forgets that they are human beings.
This year, however, didn't feel like that. Yes, there was unmitigated chaos. Yes, the hallways were a disaster of discarded papers, backpacks, hoodies, pencils and corny love notes. Last night, I helped out at graduation and was honored to watch the seniors walk across the stage.
I look like a mess cause it was so hot but @JustinAion came to graduation and I was thrilled. pic.twitter.com/8W0PG5DJq9— Skye 🦁 (@Skye_Macaroni) June 2, 2017
For some reason, it still didn't feel like the end of the year.
I don't have the sense of closure that normally comes with cleaning out my room, packing up my stuff and saying goodbye to my coworkers. I wasn't alone. Numerous people today remarked that they felt the same way. It could be that without the typical 90 degree days, it doesn't quite feel like summer yet.
We had a few meetings and a cookout for our retiring principal, but then we all went our separate ways with casual calls of "have a good summer."
It's entirely possible that, since this district is a very small and tightly knit community with families interwoven for multiple generations that the separation between work life and social life is blurred for many of them. Almost 75% of the faculty live in the town where we teach, are alumni of the school, or have multiple relatives who live and work there. Knowing that the teacher down the hallway is your cousin and you'll be vacationing with them in a few weeks changes the dynamic drastically.
I am excited for summer. I am ready to spend the days with my own children. I am ready to attend the various conferences and do some travelling.
I'm also not ready for those things at all.
I feel confused about my feelings. Rather than feeling as though I sprinted over the finish line, it seems as though I fell asleep during a movie and woke up during the credits.
I have no way to account for this.
It's a wildly unsettling feeling.
Regardless of how I feel, however, year 10 is in the books.