Saying Goodbye

My first day of kindergarten!

Around 5 years old many people get asked the same question every August. “Are you ready for school to start?” For 23 years I got asked this question.

13 years as a student in Glendo. 4 years of college. 6 years of teaching.

For 22 years my answer was some form of “Yes! I’m ready to get back.”

Until last year.

For the first time the start of a new school year didn’t feel like an empty book ready to be filled with memories, adventures, and stories. The start of a new school year felt like dread, heartbreak, constant anxiety.

School has always been important to me. Even before I got to be the student (and later the teacher) school was a place I was in awe of. Growing up with a parent who is a teacher, school is the norm before you even get to go.

I can still smell the fresh waxed gym floor every August as volleyball started up. The sound of lockers opening and being decorated on back to school night. The air somehow felt different on that first day, maybe even for the first month. Back to school has always been magical.

Until back to school meant leaving a piece of my heart thirty miles away for 9+ hours. Until I couldn’t focus on my own son because I was getting put down over someone else’s. Until my best at home wasn’t enough and my best at work wasn’t enough and every day I was reminded I was failing at the two things I’ve always wanted to do.

Being a teacher.

Being a mom.

Walking into my sixth year of teaching everything was heavy. I’d lost a good co-teacher. I had a group more rambunctious than I knew what to do with. The magic of back to school didn’t even get to set in because each second at school was another away from what really mattered. 

I told myself going back to teaching after maternity leave could be a trial run. If it didn’t work, maybe I could stay home.

Man, it did not work.

It wasn’t any one thing that really sent me over the edge to resign. It wasn’t the kids, or parents, or other staff, or driving, or being away from my kid, or not feeling like I loved the direction things were going.

It was all of it.

Maybe if one of the things that made last year tough wasn’t happening, I could have kept trying. But all of it made me feel like I was doing everything wrong.

So much happened that I pushed out of my memory. I got over all the things that hurt my feelings. But I never will forget leaving my son each day. My feelings will always hurt when I’m not with him.

So for the first time in 23 years I will not be returning to school.

And this new adventure feels more magical than all the back to schools combined.

I’ll miss making a difference. I’ll miss working with kids. But I won’t miss out on these days I can’t get back. And that’s all that really matters.