Amanda Takes Off...

Dear Ms. [S],
thank you for being a
great teacher this year. You
made time fly. Thanks
for helping me, [Dead Meat], etc.
in compacted math. We
all apricate that.
Also for teaching us
all the good stuff.
When we goto seventh
grade we should be
ready in no time. Thank
you for all of
your hard work
this year
:) [AC/DC]

I have always worked in Title I schools, which means I've worked with a lot of economically challenged families. But this year was worse than most, with a lot more of my students experiencing really hard housing/job/family situations that I wouldn't wish on anyone.

After graduation, a parent cried and cried and thanked me for being her child's "school-mother." She thanked me for believing in her child, for not lowering standards, for being a point of stability during an unstable time, for treating her child normally.

I cried, of course. I cried and told her that she and her husband laid out the foundation—I just educated her child the best I could.

I didn't cry at graduation until the very end. I had promised my students I wouldn't, and I wanted their parents to get good photos of them during the recessional rather than tear-stained ones. (If I started crying, they would.)

I had stashed tissues in my pockets and during the very end of the ceremony, one of my girls was wiping away tears. I sneaked two tissues into her palm.

Fairy Godmother and I recessed first. And then I stood in the back doorway and hugged every one of my students as they recessed. Some hugs were full of joy. Some were tense. Some were really long, the students clinging until I whispered, "I have to hug [the next student] now..."

"Can I go to the bathroom?" one asked.

"I'm not your teacher anymore," I said, "You don't need to ask."

Student looked surprised. "I'm a seventh grader now!"