This change may take a while

Matt Pearl

At this moment, it has donned on me that every other year of my life, dating back to age five, the first day of school has been my first day of school.

This year, the first day came and went, and they seemed to have gotten along just fine without me. And, truth be known, I’ve been pretty content working on the newspaper instead of teaching classes.

Will my euphoria last? Everyone seems to want to know whether I will miss teaching. My answer in generic: I’ll miss the kids. Not the other things that go along with any job that make you crazy. Paperwork, etc. You know ….

If anything, my nosy nature and territorial jealousy will get to me — I’ve wondered a time or two about my classroom and my students — none of which/whom are mine anymore. That’s a bit of a sad thought, particularly in reference to the kids who would have been taking classes from me.

They could drive me crazy. They could get lazy or willful, stubborn and moody. Students would ask the wrong questions and give the wrong answers. They would push, but take no pushing. They sometimes cheated, lied, or swore. They ate snacks in class and thought I didn’t know. They asked for bathroom breaks because they were too bored to sit in their chairs any longer. They would walk across a room to throw a graded paper in the trash, but often would not bother to put their used chewing gum in said trashcan.

They quickened my aging process and kept me youthful, all at the same time.

I loved those kids, and I still do. I wouldn’t change a thing.

They were pretty amazing. When you thought they would struggle on a test, they would often shine. They would give a correct answer on a day when I felt like the biggest failure, and everything would suddenly look a little brighter.

They fought with each other (usually just with words and dirty looks), they dated, they broke up, they laughed about it, then cried about it, then would come in at 8 a.m. the next day and get back to classes as if nothing had happened.

If you haven’t taken the time to notice, young people are a marvel. They can break your heart and fix your computer, all before breakfast. They can be so poor they wear the same clothes almost every day, yet keep hold of their hopes and dreams through almost any adversity.

They would fuss and whine like toddlers at times, yet in times requiring their best efforts, they would generally come together and do a good job. Just like people tend to do.

I’ll miss them, and some of them might even miss me. I was far from perfect as a teacher: I was too easy to distract, too disorganized to be organized, too quick to laugh, too slow to grade papers.

But I knew stuff, and I taught the things I knew the best I could.

Now I see kids I taught become teachers, or nurses, or farmers. I see them getting married and having kids. I see them working, succeeding, failing, trying, and I know that we teachers played a little part in their lives.

So, as I said, the school year has begun without me, and perhaps I am the one left feeling a bit disoriented. But we are always seeking what I call the new normal, and I will find it, I’m sure.

Education’s roots grow pretty deep in my mind and heart, however, so this is change that may take a while.