…first time since I was five years old…
First Day of Grade Three 1963
The crisp cold breeze this morning chants “fall is in the air”! And I know it is. Apples are turning red on our tree. Children are scampering out of their homes and down the street in shiny new duds beaming with hope and happiness for yet another new beginning. School is in! Let the fun begin!
But this year, I am not there.
Yesterday, I delivered a package to a colleague at our district office downtown and found myself in a puddle of tears the moment I opened the door and took in the scent of the familiar “newness” of this no-longer-new building. So much of my identity is wrapped up in my career. The education of young people has been my passion for thirty years. Not just my work, but my hobby, my calling, my life and much more than simply: who I am.
I am a teacher. I stand taller, walk straighter and smile brighter because “I am a teacher”.
GOOD MORNING! and that smile I pasted as wide across my face as it would fit was an important part of my day. I would look deep into the eyes of the young students at our school not just now, at the beginning, but every day with that bright, cheery, warm and welcoming “good morning”! You matter to me. I care about you. It is a gorgeous day. We are together and I will keep you safe. Let the learning begin!
And the learning! Oh, the glory of the learning. The thought and foundation behind the processes and the weaving and integrating that master teachers implement to foster understanding and provide opportunity for learning – and hopefully, the construction of novel ideas! Guiding a child through to understanding and arriving on that horizon of “I can do this” and “I understand this” coupled with the development of the inner confidence one works consistently to develop within those we teach is nothing short of nirvana.
But this morning, I sit, with my morning coffee, much later than I usually sit with my morning coffee.
I feel the fall. I see the red apples on the trees and the streets are now silent as the children have skipped to school. And I am alone. My heart is so full with the opportunities I had over the past thirty years to give and give and give. And I will continue to give. Just not there.
For, I cannot any longer. There is so much I can do, but I can no longer be “there” for each of the now thirty five students in each of the six classes a day. I no longer have the stamina or capacity to do thirty five to fifty things at once. That was the beauty of being the orchestrator within my classroom. I was consistently amazed by what I was able and capable of doing all at once, within a mili-second, still demonstrating value and honour to the students under my care.
I have been struggling with severe asthma and a couple of other accompanying illnesses that I was unfortunate to acquire later in my life. The medications coupled with the side effects of chronic lack of sleep make “going back” impossible to me.
Yet, my heart is there. It will always be there. I have loved school since the first day I stepped into kindergarten at 5 years old and met Mrs. Muldar. How I loved her. And I still have too many stories to tell about her: her scent, her accent, humour, warmth and kindness. Every year just got better. Public education worked for me. It was my home away from home and my welcome to the world. Doors opened. Friendships were made. Accomplishments had and one grand life lived.
But, it is not over. Just shifting. I have never been one to balk at change. I am a seeker, a searcher and one who has consistently worked to create change. This is different. But, it is going to be fine.
I will rock myself in my arms a bit today tenderly mingling through episodes of my life’s work. I will cry. I am crying. But, it was good. Every day there was joy and love and learning. And I was happy.
I am still happy; yet, just working at saying good-bye. And that will take some time. I have the time.
Happy September to all of my colleagues at school looking out at the eager young faces counting on you today! I know you won’t let them down. I have worked shoulder to shoulder with you, and can attest to our shared vision and your passion. My footsteps will no longer be heard clipping down my hall, but others will: many, many others, and many more to come. Septembers will forever signify new beginnings for me.
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W86jlvrG54o&feature=player_embedded#!
Beautiful…….September!
awe…..and life changes…..it’s wonderful that you have such great memories and I know you’ll make many more as the years go by!! oxox
I used to get excited for the first day of school too!
mom,
I sit here reading this, feeling you and crying with you. It was a journey we took as a family as well. I have fond memories of being the FIRST class in Laperle and the FIRST class at Mary Butterworth. Even though you were never my school teacher, you were my life teacher, my follow your heart teacher, and my do it right the first time teacher. There is no bigger gift you could have given this society that to have taught. Your passion for your students is, and was incredible. You will always be a teacher, you will always strive to ensure others know the way, you will forever be… Mrs. Rodgers-Lugonja!
xoxox I love you sooo much, thank you mommy!
Oh my gosh Valerie – that is SOooooooooooooooo BEAUTIFUL – made me cry & cry but SO PROUD- you are a wonderful Great teacher with the utmost passion. We are so PROUD of you. Where did you get that picture? It did make me smile. LOVE–your mom. XXXOOO 🙂
My dear daughter,
What a tribute. Thank you. I know it wasn’t so easy for you to go to school with me all the way through grade 9… but it was the best way I could parent you as a single mom and it really was “fun”!. You are and always will be “mommy’s little angel”. It is incredibly gratifying to see you distill the essence of so many of the life lessons I worked to convey.
BIG TIGHT HUGS!
XOXO
Momsey
Val, you have such a gift for words. Your passion for learning, teaching, and unbridled enthusiasm in sharing your talents and skills has undoubtedly touched many hearts. I wish you much more fulfillment in your next adventures and look forward to hearing and reading all about them!! xoxo
Amy,
Thank you. Thank you.
This is my way and I appreciate your kind words and loving wishes.
XO
Valerie
Ah, this is so beautiful… you so perfectly capture and express the sentiments we feel as each stage of life passes.. the love and the nostalgia, the fond memories and the gaping hole left and filled. Time passes and we look back and smile albeit with a hint of sadness and then pass on to the next part. Sending you hugs and thanks for a beautiful post.
hi mom!
thank you for this lovely post. i can totally relate myself. although heaven knows how glad i am to be finally done with my undergrand and a masters degree… there’s something about fall and learning. i’ve been thinking about you a lot lately with this being the first year that you will not go back. i have no doubt that your energy, passion and love for teaching will be missed. however, i also have no doubt that just those very wonderful qualities will have had an impact on thousands of your past students. thank you mom for your incredible example. i admire you for all that you are!! xoxo
Valerie, this was such a touching post. You had me glued to the screen and crying by the end. You truly have a passion for teaching and it really shows not only in this post, but from the few times I’ve had the pleasure of meeting up with you. Learning is always on your mind in everything that you do so it doesn’t surprise me one bit that passing on your knowledge gives you great joy and pleasure. As much as you miss teaching, I’m sure you’ll be equally, if not more missed by your colleagues and students. Your smile is one that can truly brighten a whole room because it’s always sincere and true like in everything you do. You were meant to be a teacher and you will always be one, Valerie. Time will heal your wounds my dear friend. Big big hugs to you!
LQ!
Thank you!
Can you believe it is September already? Give me a date! I have to get together with your munchkins and you… maybe an hour at the park by my house and a picnic?
🙂
V
So heartfelt the teacher in you will always be there. I too am mourning the passage of time where nobody went off to school this week.
Habanerogal!
This is the first year where the kids have finished school? I don’t even remember that day. Weird!
🙂
V
Valerie, I am so sad after reading this! This was a perfect post for all your work. You have such a way with words. Your students were lucky to have such a gifted teacher. I wish you good luck and will keep reading your blog. You are such an incredible person! I am struggling this year with 4 food’s classes back to back with only 45 minutes for each one. I’ve never had such a short lab time. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.
Wanda! (The Teacher Cooks)
I cannot believe, at times, what the education system expects of us and our children. Most adults cannot prepare a recipe in 45 minutes with clean up complete after years of cooking experience (for those around who still cook). How can children be expected to do this in a positive learning environment? My only suggestion is get your school to buy you another fridge or two – and another freezer. Prep one day, cook the other. I am sure you have thought of that already.
🙂
Valerie
Lovely, Valerie. Poignant to read as it touches on the edges of my heart and story, too. Thank you.