Erica Jacobs, The Examiner
2008-06-02 07:00:00.0
Current rank: Not ranked

WASHINGTON -

Thursday and Friday I saw my high school students for the last time, with very mixed emotions. I won't miss arriving before sunrise, or repeating the daily computer drill of recording absences for four classes of students. I am glad to be rid of the silly rules limiting times when students can go to the bathroom, and am especially thrilled I will never have to attend another faculty meeting.

Yet I was so sad to see students exit my classroom. Thursday's class (the “rowdy” one) even clapped and stood in line to hug me at the end. One of the many surprising insights I've had over the years is that students who are a bit hard to manage are often the ones who become the most attached, and that class-so noisy and difficult-was the one that brought a lump to my throat as I said farewell.

My actual last day with students was an anti-climax, though. Friday was the day of prom, and as Katherine and Corinne put it, “We have nail appointments at 9 a.m. We can't possibly come to school!” Truthfully, I saw their point.

So I had classes that were half empty, and was grateful for my “half full” philosophy. “We're only here for you!” said Kelcey, and I believed her. (I wanted to believe her.)

But I needed to calculate 148 grades as a steady stream of students arrived to drop off books and extra credit, knowing this was the day the grades “turn into pumpkins,” as I warned — metaphorically.

At the end of the day, after hours of few students and much data entry, I realized I needed technical help before I could do my “final export”— the step that would send my students' grades to their final transcripts. The day was ending on a very mundane note.

Rebecca, a few hours before being picked up for prom, arrived to drop off a book. “Can't talk,” I said, heading down to the computer lab for help. We walked together towards the exit doors and she shyly said, “I really appreciated your class and wanted to say something wise and memorable to you.”

The outside doors loomed and I was about to turn left as she was heading out. “There are so many things I learned, I just don't know how to put them all in words. Oh wait-I guess I just have!” We both smiled, knowing this was a sweet moment.

With that, Rebecca left the building and I sent my final grades to Guidance, aware that grades are the smallest measure of a student or a class or a year spent in a room with wonderfully contradictory adolescents.

It was only later that I realized Rebecca had articulated what I'd wanted to say to my students for two days. In my farewell remarks, I'd talked about Senior Seminar and its connection to life and learning, and the pleasure I'd gotten watching students develop their intelligence, but my words were not conveying what I felt. As Rebecca realized, admitting there is too much to capture in words would have been the wisest good-bye of all. And now I've said it.