Must come to an end.
22 June 2016
To my 2015-2016 students,
Let me begin by saying this is not the goodbye I wanted us to have. I was looking for teaching positions closer to home toward the end of the school year, but because I care for you all and didn’t want to upset you unnecessarily (in the event I remained in my current role), I didn’t tell you. Forgive me for that, but it’s one of those “adult” things (or maybe weird things about me, I don’t know). Typically, I don’t say anything I’m not sure of, and I didn’t want to cause unnecessary stress, concern, or hurt.
A week ago, I accepted a teaching position at Another High School. Though my daughter is thoroughly peeved at me because I now work at her school’s biggest rival school, I cannot overlook the benefits of working three miles from home.
I regret more than you know that I wasn’t able to say a proper goodbye. But I didn’t know anything for certain, and in fact I didn’t interview for the position until the afternoon of June 3rd, which was my last day of the school year, two days after you’d already left, and too late for us to have any proper form of closure.
This letter does not come close to saying everything I want to when it comes to each and every one of you. My love for you runs deep, and like I said in the letter I gave you at the beginning of the year, “you’re on my roster, you’re in my heart.” I know I also said don’t try to hug me, but now is one of those times when it’s actually appropriate to hug (when I see you again). You are not just my students; you have become permanent fixtures in my heart, and an indelible part of me. I will continue to fiercely love and feel protective of you, and the thought of sharing this information with you has torn holes in my heart (and my stomach) since I interviewed for the position.
But, in the end, I need to do what is best for my family, and for me. I know, in time, you’ll understand. For now, feel free to friend me on Facebook or follow me on Twitter and Instagram. It’s allowed now (like a hug—you read that right, A hug. ONE. Not, like, ten…you know I love you but what would I do without snark?).
Seriously, though, one more time, because I must: I am sorry. I love you all, and please, please never stop being fearless in the classroom. Never stop taking risks. Never stop using your voices. Never give up. Never stop growing. And never, ever stop living with love and acceptance and, most of all, kindness in your hearts.
p.s. Yes, you still have to do your summer reading homework.
A moving letter!