Year of writing 90. The end of March.

3/31/12

March for teachers is usually one of those months that drags on endlessly.  The kids are ready for Spring Break, and you, having no vacation days during that month, would rather punch yourself in the neck than grade another essay or math problem. 

This year was different.  This year, March flew by so fast I barely had a chance to wave.  We worked so hard on our elegies and altars this March in class when they were finished there was an audible sigh, a letting off of pressure.  Those altars are now on display in the front of the school where they get the audience both the students and the people they honored deserve.  The fact that this month was so painless is a testament to two things - one - I have the best job ever right now.  and 2 - I have been in a state of quasi-denial about leaving my precious students.  That comes to an end on Monday. 

Monday will be the last day I will be in the classroom with students from the Fruitvale in Oakland.  I will take roll for the last time, probably tell bad jokes like I'm wont to do, and since I can already feel the lump in my throat, tears will definitely be shed.  I know that the move I am embarking on next month back to Ojai is for the best.  It is absolutely the right thing to do for my family, but damn if I wasn't meant to be an urban educator.  I will find a way back to this community some way or somehow.