Teachers find gratitude as school ends.
We are starting to pack up our books, finalize grades, hug our students goodbye. We are tired, worn down from another 10 months of counseling, emailing, yelling, calming, mediating, training, crying, planning, teaching and (even ourselves) learning. We have had our hearts broken and uplifted throughout the overwhelmingly emotional pursuit of bettering society through providing the world with its greatest possible gift: educated children.
We have tried our best to smile through the swallowing of policies grounded in flawed theories rather than practice, inflicted upon today’s youth by a phantom elite who has never met the souls we share our days with. The stress of today’s teachers, like any profession, can only be understood by those who share our path. I will spare you the laundry list of stresses.
So, why do we keep coming back when there is surely more glory, wealth and admiration elsewhere? And what really makes the last day of school so special? I’ll share our age-old, well-kept teacher secret…
It’s not what you might think.
In the last days of school, the kids get pretty wild. There are some fights, plenty of skipping, some begging for grade forgiveness and acceptance of late work. However, the overall tone of those last days isn’t one of stress. It is one of gratitude. Since my last day of school in May 2002, every single last day of school has left me in tears.
Nearly every child walks out the door and says — often with his or her own tears and a hug — “thank you.”
For the majority of teachers who do what we do for the right reasons, this is the day that allows us to endure all the rest. Some notes I have received already from my 16- to 19-year-old beautiful “children” this year include: “I loved how you showed you cared,” “thank you for always pushing me and believing in me,” “you helped me defeat my fear and pass FCAT,” “thank you for not giving up on me,” and “I was blessed to have so much support.” And I am by no means a better-than-average teacher. Most of us who give ourselves wholeheartedly to the profession receive these accolades from society’s most typically critical: teenagers.
Each of us comes to the table wanting to help and change society. When we receive this gratitude from society’s most downtrodden individuals, we see the power and the importance of our work. It is not for the money, or for the summers off; it is for the loving smiles and the diplomas received by the souls who cross our paths for 180 days.
The looks, hugs and notes of thanks that we receive in the last days of school are worth every day of stress and every 5 a.m. alarm. That last day of school is the moment when we can exhale, reflect upon the ups and downs of our craft, transcend the increasing demands placed upon us, and allow our students to give us as big a gift as we have given them.
I guess that’s not our little secret anymore.