Graduation

Congratulations, Class of 2007.

I knew at least a year ago that I was going to be a wreck at graduation this weekend. And that sense of dread only got worse as this year went on. Students I've known since my first day, including a few to whom I grew quite close, finished their high school career and stepped out into the Real World on Saturday. I (kindly) got called a crybaby, but I wasn't crying out of sadness. Sure, there's inherent sadness in knowing that I will never see some students ever again as they scatter - quite literally - to the ends of the earth. But my tears were mostly from an overwhelming overflow of emotion: pride, reciprocal gratitude, and most of all, love.

When I accepted my job, I was told that teaching was a lifestyle, not a career, but I never expected to get so attached. Consider my models. I had good relationships with my teachers when I was in high school, but none so significant and influential as the ones students have cultivated with me. Times are different, families are different, and it is a boarding school, after all. Students here are so much more than faces in my classroom; the school is their home and they seek out parental figures, despite how much they may claim the contrary.

I'm an only child, but my father claims to have hundreds of daughters. It's not as sketchy as it sounds! He has been a softball coach for years. I more fully understand his sentiment. Even though I have no children of my own yet, I have hundreds of sons and daughters. The protectiveness over them, the fear from not hearing from them, the worry that they're making wise decisions, the joy in their success - it's all what I presume I'll feel as a parent of my own children some day. Just five thousand times stronger, I suspect, because I feel this for kids I've only known for a year, maybe two! I can't imagine what it's like when it's your own flesh and blood. So I'm thankful for the training-wheels experience with these kids. Additionally, it's been helpful to see the hard work required to properly bring up a child. It's so easy for things to go wrong. Deciding to have a child is easy - it's just the biology of conception and birth. Committing to raise that child for 20+ years is not a decision that can be taken lightly - the responsibility is immense! Is it any wonder I'm shy about it?

I don't expect students to be so thankful, either. My yearbook and bulletin boards are covered in love notes from students. It's my prayer that I'm doing exactly what God entrusts to me and doing it well. I try not to seek validation from people; the recognition that truly matters will come from Him. He gives me tastes of it from time to time through students. So when they express their gratitude for what I do for them, I'm actually caught off-guard, and it carries a lot of meaning. They see more than we think they do. (But the converse is also true. We see more than they think we do, too.) And I'm grateful for the effect they have on my life, as well.

Congratulations, again. I wish you nothing but the best. Stay in touch. And don't do anything I wouldn't do.