Moving On...

Today was bittersweet. After what could only be described as an insanely challenging year, my fifth graders finally graduated and moved on to middle school. I'll be honest though. I was not so sure that either they or I would make it to the finish line; but somehow we made it.

At the end of each year, there is a tradition in which the teachers sing a song to send the children off. Honestly, other than "Hit the Road, Jack," I did not want to sing anything to this group of students. They worked my nerves in pretty much every way possible. However, my principal was not having it. So off to looking for songs our music teacher and I went. As we listened to one in particular, the lyrics, the tempo, the energy all seemed to describe them perfectly. I learned the song and actually found myself excited to sing it to them. (By the way, it was "Crazy Dreams" by Carrie Underwood.)

In the minutes leading up to their final walk of the halls, I took a moment to really look at each of the young minds I helped to mold. I recalled each child's golden moments and maybe a few not-so golden ones. Then I imagined them off into the world being tomorrow's movers and shakers; and, for the first time, I realized that the thought of these beautiful faces one day being control of the world did not frighten me. After all, these were my babies and they were going to do BIG things one day. I smiled to myself, and one child asked me what I was thinking. I told them, "I am thinking about your future and praying that you know just how proud I am to be your teacher."

After graduation, we had a reception where students and parents were able to mingle and say their summer goodbyes. A huge crowd gathered around me as parents and children waited to talk to and take pictures with me. It does something to your heart to have a parent of a particularly challenging student come up and tell you that their child talks about you every day and cried at the thought of leaving you. Or to have another one say that they waiting in that mile-long line to reach me because there was just no way their child would allow them to leave without getting a final hug or to take a final picture with "their" teacher. My undoing was when one of my newcomers who showed up at school speaking zero English, posed for a picture. Then, in the best English she could muster said, "Ms. C, I love you so much. Thank you for believing in me."

Wow. Just wow. I could go on and on about moments like these, but I won't. I can't. Not today. Right now, I am just going to reflect and smile.