Today was the last day of school with students. 180 days ago it started; now it has ended. And, I’ll just have to assume that students think that this isn’t the end of the year because it sure didn’t feel like it. Yeah, some yearbooks were shoved in my face and students seemed to want me to write something thrilling in them. Sure, students cheered a little at the end of the day because that marked the finality of it all.
But, there was no sense of urgency. Students acted like they had weeks or months left to get done what they hadn’t done for a year. I should not have to tell a kid that all he has to do is get up and give a speech or else he won’t pass. It shouldn’t come down to that, but for some it does. The constant reminder–you have to pull some kids across the finish line. In the old days, I would have let that kid fail, but it’s a few points, a few percentage points, and one assignment. It does come down to one little thing in life, too.
I am also constantly reminded that I have a son, one that I often forsake for this job. He’s 13. School comes easy for him. If he had seen his father in action today, I don’t know what he would have thought. If he had seen what his father sometimes puts ahead of him–I know I balance it out in other ways, but it’s tough to justify sometimes.
The constant reminder is failure. At our end-of-the-year luncheon today, a student who I had last year, and who will be in my class next year, was bold enough to tell me that of all the books I assigned last year, this student read none of them. Great. Thanks for telling me. Does this mean we have to read in class next year? because I don’t do that.
But the other constant reminder is what a hero I am to the loser. And by loser, I mean that only in the highest sense, for I use the term with some reverence. The loser lunch crew is back, which is awesome to have kids who don’t want to be elsewhere hang out in my room. I’ve also received emails and tweets and shout-outs from those kids who just didn’t fit in high school, who didn’t have the best time of it. I’ve learned so much from them and am happy that I was a sounding board, someone they could cry in front of, and a teacher that moved them forward long after I was their classroom teacher. Not everyone is a cool kid; not everyone fits. High school can be so unforgiving. The fact that kids can come to me–some that aren’t even mine–is a constant reminder that no matter the previous paragraphs of frustration, that I’m doing something right.
Back to the boy. I have to thank the previous 180 school days for making me a better father. Each day my priorities change. The things I have seen make we want to throw a ball around, or go shoot some hoops, or hit some tennis balls with my boy.
But not yet–I still have to get my grades and end-of-year stuff done. Tomorrow maybe.https://youtu.be/-eEfAGzgv18