Last Friday was the last day of school! Can you believe it? I can't. When I think about everything I've survived this year, it astounds me. You know the saying there are no atheists in a foxhole? I guess there aren't any in an urban high school. Some greater force must have been at play, because it couldn't have been all me.
I survived the layoffs, the students (most days), the three grade levels, the 4X4 schedule, and the general chaos of the school year. My car didn't totally survive--I'm still fighting that one. Go figure. Some days I did not survive the lack of toilet paper, but thankfully those days my neighbor was willing to "spare a square."
You know how sometimes out of the rubble something greater is built? That's kind of how I feel, oddly enough. At the beginning of all of this, I felt like surely I would succumb to all of the external pressure, because my internal framework--my own image of myself as a teacher--was shattered. Somehow, making my way through all this muck helped me emerge and reclaim my teacher self. I don't know how or why, because there were so many days when I just wanted to walk away--even run away. But I didn't. I stayed. I fought. And I won.
