End of semester musings-- and what it's like to be a high school teacher

Today, a brief note. It's 3 degrees. We are expecting 40s and rain by week's end. ugh. Messy, to be sure. 

We'll be wrapping up Hard Times in Brit Lit by week's end, too-- it seems they like it, and I expect I'll be getting some varied drafts of a paper when we get back from the holiday break. I sure hope so. I hate nagging. I hope they are ready to work hard for the last couple of weeks.

We'll be wrapping up Braiding Sweetgrass in APLang tomorrow-- they actually do like this book, and I think the papers that will be generated will be good ones. I hope they feel ready enough for the AP exam in May. It's a long time between January and May-- we'll meet to review, but omg I hope they are okay.

It always feels a little weird, this approach to the end of a semester. On one hand, it's great. I'm getting a bit tired of the "same ol' stuff" in APLang-- I can't wait to dig into literature with APLit. And the Creative Writing class should go well. But then-- it feels almost like I'm abandoning these kids, just when they are starting to, as Henry Jones says to Indiana in The Last Crusade, "get interesting." I'll get them back again, some as soon as the new semester starts (it seems I have groupies? who'd have thunk!)-- but others I won't get back until next spring, just as they are looking out the windows more than at the desk or computer-- graduation will be on their minds. 

We can take kids from A to B, but where they go to attain C, who knows? Some it'll be college, some work, some will float along and figure it out as they go. Some will try college and become scared or disillusioned. Some will, unfortunately, drift into patterns of behavior that land them in the papers-- police reports or other bad news. This is the reality of what it's like to be a high school teacher: we have such a short time with these kids, and we do what we can to teach them not only subject matter, but how to be better humans. It's not easy, and sometimes it doesn't stick. But we try. And we are pleased for their future successes, and we grieve over their mis-steps as well. For a span of time, they are "our kids," and we hope they make it. The world is a difficult and dangerous place, more-so now than in many generations. I'm pretty sure knowing what a sonnet is won't help them. But maybe, understanding that life has the potential for a volta will. 

Have a good day, and hold onto your loved ones. Keep them close, and keep them safe. 

C



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