It’s the time of year at schools when people leave.
I have a handful of my current students who won’t be returning next year. Their families are relocating to places outside of this city, so changing schools is a necessity rather than a preference. They’re great kids with overall supportive families; they’ll be fine no matter where they go. But it does mean that my standing end-of-year offer — “Come visit me next year!” — for them, it is probably an empty one.
I also have the last handful of my English Language Learners leaving, graduating. They are ready, and it is time, so it’s good. But I’ve known a couple of them since they literally could not put two words of English together, let alone navigate an English-based school system, so to see them so independent, confident, and successful in it… I’m pleased at their success and proud of their accomplishments, but believe me — On graduation night, I will shed tears, remembering their younger selves.
And there are teachers leaving. Some are retiring. It’s not that many, actually — as few or fewer than in past years, past schools — but it feels big. It’s people who’ve been fixtures of my school since I started teaching there. I didn’t know it at the time, but really — they’ve been fixtures of this school since I was in high school myself. So many faculty and staff literally cannot imagine the school without them. And now they’re going. Again, it’s the right time, and I wish them well — but I will miss them.
Also there are teachers leaving because they are unhappy with the school and the district. Not gonna lie: It’s been a tough year in my district. There are problems. There are valid reasons to leave. There are some good teachers leaving because bad things happened, and my life and the lives of my future students will be sadder for not having them here.
There’s another category of people leaving, too. People I want to talk about but can’t — yet. The feelings are too raw, the realities too close.
I know next year will develop its own rhythm, and a few weeks in, I’ll feel like I’ve been in that rhythm forever. But that new rhythm won’t spring up out of nothing. It will be shaped by the people who arrive and the people who remain — but also by the people who are leaving.