Graduation

You don’t need to be a genius to know that the more you get used to doing something the better you’ll be at it. Although I loved my first years of teaching, I realized that they were also my most difficult. Everything was new to me. The environment, the structures, the students, the subject matter.

As I stayed longer in my profession, I realized that things became easier when I started getting used to them. I didn’t have to work as hard to come up with lesson plans and I didn’t spend as much effort to do something. Over the years, I’ve come up with my own systems and ways of doing things. And although I do try to improve and try something new, there are things that become like second nature.

One thing, though, that I feel I’ll never get used to is having to say goodbye to students. Many other professionals are encouraged to maintain distance from their clients. They are asked not to get too personal. Things are very different for teachers. We are encouraged to get to know our students, to “call them each by name,” to ask the questions about their families, to know what makes them tick, to listen to their stories and to walk a mile in their shoes. Ultimately, we are often called to love our students, to see them not just as “clients” but to see them for who they truly are – children still in the process of being the best versions of themselves.

And in the ten months that I spend time with my students, I grow very fond of them. I start referring to them as “my kids” and feel protective. So when March comes along and they graduate, I always feel torn. Of course I’m happy for them. The great joy of my life is to watch my students grow up and reach their goals. But it’s also rather painful to realize that as much as I love them and nurture their growth, I really cannot hold on to them. They were never mine to keep, in the first place. 

So as graduation begins to draw near, I can’t help but ask myself if all the effort spent on learning to love people who will one day leave is worth it. For a split second I consider making a resolve not to get too involved the following year, to be one of those people who stop themselves from caring too much or from taking things personally. I try to convince myself that that would make things easier.

It really would. Only, it wouldn’t be better. The choice to shut myself off from all the kids who are placed in my care can be tempting. But it never lasts very long. Because then the memories and the faces of each child I’ve ever taught comes into view and they make me realize that true love is never wasted. Love unconditionally and freely given is never wasted. Love graciously received is never wasted. Whether it lasts for ten months or ten years or an entire lifetime, every encounter with genuine love is an encounter with God.

So as I prepare for what seems like my nth graduation, I’ll feel anxious again if I will shed a few tears and ruin my makeup. I’ll try to keep clearing the lump of sadness stuck in my throat. And then I’ll try to brace myself for the pain of cheeks that have spent an entire afternoon smiling. And I’ll try to treasure every “thank you,” every “goodbye,” and every hug that comes. It will be painful and joyful and profound. As it has always been.

As I hope it will always be.