That Thing About the End of the School Day

 Tight shoulders 

       released from pressure.

The weight off me now

       Life returns.

Last Friday at 4:20 I got to enjoy a ritual I had not had the pleasure of indulging in for many months.

In the morning I had written the little poem above, inspired by Billy Collins' poem "Argument for Design."  I then wrote this:

Looking forward

to that moment

the kids leave

and I have a few 

minutes of quiet

to myself I haven't

had since

September 23rd!

On Friday, September 23rd I had stayed a little late prepping for a guest teacher since I was taking Monday the 26th off for my husband's milestone birthday. Talk of hurricane was in the works, and I prepped accordingly for that as well.

By Tuesday the 27th school was closed, and the kids did not return to our school until Wednesday, October 19th. That coincided with the day Jim began radiation treatments. Every single day I scooted out early, imposing on my co-workers to take my kids for me so I could leave, pick up Jim, and battle traffic to get him to the cancer center. The daily routine for six weeks was a royal drag in many ways, especially for him, of course. 

We were quite excited when the end was in sight: December 15th. He finished up, rang the bell, and a weight was lifted, as I wrote in my morning poem above.

It wasn't until I wrote that poem I realized how much I missed that quiet time at the end of the day. I actually hadn't thought much about how every day I was losing the chance to reflect, get things set for the next day, and in the case of the 16th, actually creating an activity to use. Frankly, many times I leave right away, but it is nice to have the option.

Teachers spend their days greeting, teaching, listening, and saying goodbye to dozens of students. Having that few minutes when it is over to breathe in the day, reflect a bit, and move forward for the next day is an important part of the process. There is something about the end of the school day that can feel like a little gift to ourselves. I am grateful Jim is done with his treatments, of course. But for me, that time at the end of the day is like unwrapping a little piece of chocolate and savoring it all by myself. 

Just Makes Me Happy

 For some reason this year, there was a holiday door decorating contest at my school, with a fantastic prize of a jeans week for the teacher (yawn).  I couldn’t figure out how anyone had time for this, since we were in a crunch given we lost three weeks plus this semester. But…oh well.

Then suddenly I decided to do something simple. And yes, I spent more time on it than I had planned.  But…oh well.

I brought in what was left on an old roll of wrapping paper. I printed off snowflakes for the students to color, along with some pine trees. Called it “Celebrate Learning” and focused on the recent success my learners had in raising their Lexile levels. Of course we didn’t “win” in any of the categories, but that was never my focus. I intend on relishing this joyful expression up until the day I have to take it down. It represents spontaneity, success in goals being met, and so much more. After the major interruption in our lives in the form of one of the worst hurricanes in US history, I am glad we took the time to celebrate through color and creativity. 

I consider this a win!

Here are a couple of detail photos: