End of Year 8

My Timehop showed me that I wrote my "Goodbye to Rockingham" post a year ago today.  It's crazy to think that one year ago I was leaving Rockingham and getting ready for a new adventure at a brand new school.  It's even harder (for me) to believe that it's the end of my first year at that new school.  Oh what a year it has been!

It was a terribly hard decision for me to leave Rockingham.  It was the first (and only) school I taught at.  It was where I first cut my teaching teeth.  So many wonderful colleagues and students who taught me incredible lessons.  Truth be told, as wonderful as my colleagues were, my students were the reason I couldn't leave there.  Every year I would tell myself that THIS was the year I could leave.  THIS is the year it will be okay to venture out away from RCHS.  But, it took eight years, hundreds of students, and a lot of praying later...I finally decided it was okay to leave.  Bonus that I had an incredible opportunity to teach at Mt. Tabor High School in Winston Salem.

Fast forward a year.  I sit in my empty classroom at Tabor and marvel that somehow I've made it through to the other side.  I knew that it would be difficult to transition to a new school.  I knew it would be hard to figure out my place.  A place where I had only visited a few times.  A place that held so, so, so many new faces.  But, I made it.

This year has felt, at times, like I was pushed (or shoved) back to year one of teaching.  The feeling of not knowing, not having a place, not having any status, not knowing any students, and not knowing if this teaching gig was right for me.  I was climbing the mountain all over again...a mountain that I thought I had made pretty good progress on.

My first semester of classes presented several challenges.  The makeup of Tabor is more city-based, where as Rockingham was a rural county.  I was teaching a grade level I hadn't taught in a few years.  I broke up fights in my classroom.  I had students who spoke languages I had never heard of.  I had students who were so needy.  I had students who I wanted to wrap up and take home with me. Tell them it would be okay, that the world wasn't the shitty place they had grown to believe it was.  I figured out that some of my students were not used to structure, and even though they protested, I think they found that they needed it.  I learned that I needed to go back to the basics.  I learned that some of my students felt school was their "safe place".  But, I also had students who had a HUGE chip on their shoulder.  I faced apathy, anger, frustration, and rudeness from many students.  There were days that I sat at my desk in the afternoon, head in hands, and thought, "What have I done?" I was positive that at any point, my principal would come in and say, "Um, I think I've made a mistake."

At some point, I got my footing and figured out how to better help my students.  I thanked God every single night that I was teaching with two of my best friends.  I could not have made it this year without them.  They encouraged me, had pep talks with me, taught me new skills, and held out their arms in support when I broke down.

I don't have a single regret about this move.  It was the right time to move.  I needed this change, this shake up, this new adventure.  I have learned more this year than the last half of my years of teaching put together.  I have learned to let certain things go, while holding onto others.  I've met so many incredible educators.  I've had the privilege of working for an AMAZING set of administrators.

I know this is where God wanted me to be this year.  When Granny got sick and I needed to be there, being an hour closer to home was wonderful.  Only being an hour away from her hospital towards the end was a blessing.  And when she was called home, having my friends and department take care of everything was just the biggest blessing ever.

I sit here at my desk looking at my empty desks.  I'm thinking about the 150 some students who filled them.  Some of them made me want to pull out my hair.  Some of them turned some of my other hair gray.  Some of them made me question why I became a teacher.  And some of them showed me why.  No regrets.

I leave this year with so many ideas.  New lessons in mind.  New thoughts on how to be a better teacher.  So many lessons learned.  So many mistakes to correct.  So many memories - good and bad.

I missed Rockingham County High School so much this year.  There were times I'd be lying if I didn't say I wondered what it would have been like if I'd just stayed there in the comfortable routine I'd become accustomed to.  It is a place that will forever be seared on my heart.  But I know it was the right time to leave.  I know that Tabor is where God wanted me to be.

As I close year 8, I anticipate (both with excitement and anxiety) the future years.  Still so many lessons to teach and so many students to meet.

8 down...22 more to go.