the end of an era

five years ago, i stepped into my classroom and turned on the lights for the first time. there was sawdust in the air and no blinds on my 12 windows. i had 26 desks, one teacher desk, and one whiteboard. i was a first year teacher in a brand new school and i was scared out of my mind. a few days later at eight am sharp, school started and 26 shining faces looked up at me, expectantly, waiting for me to impart my knowledge upon them. it took every ounce of self control i had not to bolt out of that classroom and never come back.

but i stayed.

and although the air conditioning didn't work and by 8:30 the kids were laying on their desks with their tongues hanging out of their mouths, we all survived that first day. (i cried myself to sleep that night) and miracle of miracles, i survived that year...and the next...and a few more after that. and by the middle of the first year, something strange happened: i remembered why i became a teacher. i loved my job. i thrived on the excitement in their faces when they "got it." i lived for the ridiculously silly moments that bonded me with my students. i loved cheering them on when they succeeded and picking them up when they fell. i smiled at the pride in their eyes when they learned something their parents hadn't even known. and most importantly, i loved them. more than i ever thought i could. i threw my heart and soul into the school, my classroom, and my students. i believed in education, i believed in our mission, and i believed in my students. sometimes i thought i'd never leave, never could leave and i was ok with that, because i was very happy.

but things change. and though life never goes the way you expect it to, things always work out exactly how they should.

four days ago, i turned off the lights and closed the door of my classroom for the last time. the sawdust was gone and the 12 windows now have very dusty blinds, but other things were different, too. that classroom now holds the memories of five of the most challenging and rewarding years of my life. it became my second home, an extension of myself. and above all, it was a happy, safe place full of laughter and love and learning.

and i'd like to think that by leaving a few of my teardrops on the floor on my way out, i insured that it will always be my classroom.