CowPi
 Journal

Yesterday was the last day of classes for seniors at the high school where I teach. I always have mixed emotions about the last day of school. (I have another last day of school to go through with the underclassmen.) The last day is further complicated since most of my seniors are exempt from their final exam. Those two or three students who have to take the exam will come back on Monday or Tuesday.
I always have this urge to stand up in front of my departing students and say something profound, to tell them how much I appreciated them, and to wish them a happy and successful life. But this never happens. The bell usually rings before I can manage my emotions and muster up the courage. Or, a couple of students are wrapping up their last math test, and I don’t want to interrupt them. Or, I am busy grading their last test, and time slips by until the bell rings, then it’s too late. Or, on a rare occasion we do not have anything to do on the last day because we took the last test a day early, the students sit there and talk among themselves. Some classes include me in their conversations, some don’t. It all depends on the mix of personalities. And again, time slips by until the bell rings.
I remember when I was a student. There was always a sense of closure when I walked out of a classroom for the last time, no matter how much I enjoyed the class. There was a sense of release—no more homework, no more tests, no more commitment of my time and energy. One stage of my life was finished, and I was excited for the upcoming brief time of freedom, and for the possibilities of the future.
As a teacher on the last day of school, there is no sense of closure. The students just get up and walk out of the classroom door like they have always done. They walk out of your life as quickly as they walked into it on the first day of school. I do get a sense of relief on the last day that I am not responsible for them any more. The pressure to be always ready is off (for a little while at least). But final grades still need to be calculated, and the classroom needs to be packed up for summer.
I have always had a few students who shook my hand or gave me a hug as they left on the last day. I really appreciate this gesture of affection. And this does provide a little sense of closure. Most students do not know realize how much of an impact they have on their teachers.
So, for a little sense of closure, I pray that all of my students live long, happy, prosperous lives under the light and love of Christ. May all of their dreams and aspirations come true. May they find love and friendship. And in the end, may they learn to listen to God in their lives.

Tagged: observation, teaching

§ 3 Responses to “No Sense of Closure”

• Vinay Venkatesh says:

  11 May 2003 at 2 pm

  Actually, when I left high school, I never got the feeling that the relationship I had built with my teachers over the previous one to four years had ended. I don’t think that any of the students did either. Every time I go visit my parents, I also stop by my high school and visit my teachers. I also keep in touch with them through email.
  It might be because I went to a private school, but the feeling I get from those teachers was that they wanted to keep in touch afterwards and be friends or whatever.
  It’s a good feeling to know that your teacher cares.
• Mark says:

  12 May 2003 at 11 am

  Vinay, I do manage to stay in touch with one or two students from each year. And my spirit is lifted everytime a former student comes back to visit, or I run into one of them at the mall.
  The feelings I was trying to describe is more of an “empty nest” feeling. My students and I have spent a lot time together each day during the course of a year or two or three. (For some students, that is more time than they spend with their parents.) And now, suddenly, they are gone. Nothing celebrates or marks that moment of transition. Most students just walk out the door, many say “Thanks” or “See ya around”, and some mark it with a hand shake or a hug.
  It is that celebration or marking of that moment of transition which I miss. The longer I teach, the more I need some sense of emotional closure at the end of the school year.
• Mark says:

  17 May 2003 at 1 pm

  I made sure to get my sense of closure at graduation. I made sure to get a hug from most of my students.