Graduation was on Thursday — as you can see from the picture of me wearing my hood above. My merry band of seniors graduated, and that’s the end of them. Yeah, one of them might stop to write an email here and again, or pop by the school when they’re back in town, but let’s face it. They’re gone. And am I okay with that?
Surprisingly, yes. I honestly don’t know why, but I am. Not that I won’t miss them — they might be the standard by which I judge all future calculus classes — but I honestly think I’m okay with the “they come into your life, they go out of your life” revolving door aspect of teaching.
Picturesque and poignant defined the ceremony. It was held outside, with our 1851 Hogwartian brick building acting as our backdrop, light streaming through leaves as the sun slowly started setting, with a gentle breeze punctuating the warmth and a few butterflies fluttering around. Students sang, surprisingly mature speeches had us laughing, and then like the end of a really good chapter in my life, it was over.
While the seniors graduated, I also thought about all the colleagues who I’ve come to respect and truly like who are leaving; they also are graduating. And from that, my mind moved on… Graduation was the first time I was able to take a moment away from the hustle and bustle of the End Of Year Things To Do, and I finally really realized I too had graduated. I finished my first year teaching, and I loved it.