silly things to be sad about...

Sometimes the things that make me sad are, quite frankly, utterly ubsurd. I've gotten weepy at everything from strangers' graduations to toilet paper commercials. I think it's just the way that I'm wired. I see something that I can empathize with and it gets to me.

Today, though, I had a realization that made me genuinely sad. This will be the first time in 22 years that I will not be going back to school in the fall. It seems silly--how many high schoolers would kill to be in my shoes? And as the adult, the teacher, this time of year is like one big game of craps--you throw the dice down the table and pray that they add up to a group of kids that won't drive you insane until exams in January. On top of that, with the way the economy is, it's a guarantee to have 42,306,239,234 kids in one class. So many things NOT to look forward to. Then why am I sad?

I guess to me there has always been something magical about the start of the school year. As a kid I would get so excited when I got the letter in the mail informing me of my class assignment. School shopping was one of the highlights of my year. New Year's may be the time that most people consider as the time for new beginnings, but to me it has always been mid-August. It was a time for a clean start. Everything was new--down to the pencils in my nifty new backpack.

As a teacher, that never really changed. I always looked forward to what the new year may hold. Granted, there were years and semesters that I borderline hated my job. Between obnoxious students (and no, I am not a bad teacher for thinking that some kids are obnoxious. Your obnoxious boss didn't just wake up that way one day-- he annoyed the daylights out of everyone he met along the way, including his teachers.), administrators that didn't have a clue what they were doing, and stories that could break your heart in half sometimes the job just sucked. Despite all that, though, I loved it. It was what I was meant to do. June and July were like teaching world's equivilent to Nyquil--they provide a wonderful rest and you can't remember jack of what happened beforehand. By August I was excited and ready to go back to the poor-paying thanklessness that I called my career.

And here we are. It's August, but instead of making plans to go back for another school year, I'm making arrangements to empty out my classroom. Instead of going to the store and stocking up on supplies from my students, I'm trying to figure out where to store all of the supplies I've stockpiled over the past few years. Instead of being excited about the new start, I'm starting to feel the sadness that I've been avoiding since I left my classroom in May. I know the actual process of packing up my classroom is going to be incredibly difficult--teaching was what I was meant to do, and at SC I was fortunate enough to be able to do it with an absolutely amazing group of people. Patrice, Nicki, Anna -- they all told me after they left that there was something special about SC and to not take it for granted. And that's part of the sadness, too. Even when or if I do go back to teaching, it's not going to be there with the best group of co-workers I could imagine. (I say nothing of the administration, friend.)

Don't get me wrong--I'm thrilled that I will get to stay home with my girls. I love them and the time that I will get to watch them grow. It's just a little hard. It's hard to walk past the back to school sales and realize that I'm not part of that this year. It's hard to hear someone say "You were a good teacher"--to really hear it in the past tense. Change is hard. But it's good, too. Because now I don't have to worry about that sadness and guilt I felt as I drove away from the daycare. I don't have to feel bad when I have to stay at school late. But I will miss it.

So for now, it's just me. Me and my girls. And that's pretty good. But it's still okay to be sad.