The Journey Inward

This school year marks the end of an era for me. I retired in July and am not starting this September like I have started every September from 1991 to 2002 and from 2009 to 2024, preparing my classroom and welcoming new students.

I went to bed Monday night knowing that the teachers were heading back the next morning, starting their day as a full district at our middle school. I felt at peace.

But the next morning, I woke up feeling like I had one of those heavy x-ray blankets on my chest. It would seem that the morning would be harder than I had anticipated.

And then the texts started coming in from my colleagues. Checking in. Telling me they miss me. Telling me what was happening at the meeting. Filling me in on summer news. And with each text, I would tear up or get a little weepy or out and out sob. The feelings washed over me and floated away, and I would get something done, but then they would come back again. I spent the morning letting them come and go, not resisting. I reached out to friends and told them it was a hard morning for me, but I also needed time and space to process this significant event.

The first day of school for the students was another tough day for me. I was grateful that it was a busy one, but driving by the bus stops definitely tugged at my heartstrings.

Eleven years ago, I started working with an old friend of mine. We were so excited to be together that we had someone take a picture of us on the first day. We did it again the next year, wearing the exact same dresses. And a tradition was born! Every year we would each wear our first day of school dress and pose for a picture. Her three daughters and my three daughters grew up as friends, so I would always send the picture out to everyone.

But there was to be no first day for us together this year. And so we decided to close out the tradition and begin a new one. I met her for a beer after school and we took one last picture together. I had come straight from working out, so I changed out of my T-shirt and shorts and into the dress for one last time.

I actually can’t stand that dress and I only wear it that one day a year. I bought it because it was our school color. At one time it fit very well, but not so much anymore!

I’m grateful for a career in public education that has spanned over three decades. It is the only job I ever wanted from the time I was in first grade.My parents were both teachers and my grandparents, as well. I can only hope that I have made a contribution to the lives of my students and families and some of my colleagues.

Photos: a page from my Back to School Night presentation that shows a piece of writing I did in first grade, first days from 2014 to 2024, and our final shot on 9.4.25