All the teachers signed each of the 26 signs with personal messages about how fun high school was going to be, what a pleasure they were to get to know--things like that. And a surprise: they had gotten a sign made for me and had covered the back with sweet notes written in Sharpies. When we stuck the signs in the yards, had the students put on the t-shirt and took pictures, we honked our horns and said silly things in a bull horn.
As I’m looking for a new school--a new professional home--I’m already missing my old work “home.” This is a supportive, funny, strong, bawdy and honest group of educators. There were times during this school year (more times that I’d like to admit) where I cried. Sometimes during school hours, and I’d have to open my eyes extra wide to keep the tears from brimming over as I turned with my back to the class. Sometimes after dismissal, where I’d hide in my room as the hot flood flowed down my cheeks… and each time, one (or more) of those teachers would hunt me down and give me a hug as they talked some reason into my head. Or they’d give me a card the next day with a lottery ticket or a candy bar attached. They were there for me during a rough patch… and for that I’m eternally grateful.
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| Radar looks way better naked than I do in sweat pants... |
As I’ve learned (so many times) how hard it is to say good-bye, I’m learning things about myself and writing during this quarantine. Wouldn’t you like to know what Sioux is wearing these days? (Possibly not.) Would you like to know how she’s occupying her time? (Definitely not.) However, if you’re brave enough, check out her post yesterday on The Muffin.
