Things I'll Miss from Teaching: Being a Teacher

I walked out of the school day free from all future responsibility.

It's been a roller-coaster of a week. One minute I'm excited for what lies ahead, thankful to be done and ready to move forward. The next minute I'm wondering what in the world I've done.

I spent the first 21 years of my life wanting to be a teacher and insisting I would never be a pastor. Somewhere in the last five years that changed, and while I feel quite strongly that it's the right decision, it's not easy to undo 21 years of intent in one week.

There have been many farewells in the week, from kids, parents, coworkers, and administrators alike, all of which make me realize even more how special the place I've been working has been.

One farewell, created by the two other fifth grade teachers, consisted of a movie with each of the lower school faculty members giving helpful French phrases like, "Do you have this shoe in a size 13?" or "Paris is nice, but I'd like to return to Bethlehem now."

I've spent a lot of time thinking about the first two years of teaching compared with the last three, less than a mile apart but worlds different, wondering why they had to be so different, what's wrong with me, what's wrong with the system, why can't all schools be as good as the one I've been in. All I know is the last three years have been a pleasure and a privilege. Whereas in the first two years, every single morning was filled with the strongest sense of dread you can ever imagine, never once did I wake up in the past three years saying to myself, "I wish I didn't have to go to work today." When you've got a job like that, you've got it made. I realize how rare it is.

I had a blast hanging out with 5th graders for the past three years. Entertaining them, disciplining them, challenging them, sharing with them, getting them to think. I thank God over and over again for what I really have considered a dream job.

And all of that makes me feel even more crazy to be leaving.

I made a CD of music as an end of the year gift for my coworker. She told me she listened to it on the ride home and liked the Tallest Man on Earth singing "The Wild Hunt," in part because of the music, in part because of its message. I admitted to her that I had to look up the lyrics to see what she meant, because I really hadn't listened to them. Turns out they are quite fitting.

I left my heart to the wild hunt a-comin
I live until the call
And I plan to be forgotten when I'm gone
Yes I'll be leavin' in the fall