Late tomorrow afternoon our seniors will graduate. On Monday I will meet with my one remaining class — 30 juniors in AP Economics, if they show up, because all required work for me, except for two students, is now in.
My room is already stripped, and almost all of my personal possessions have been brought home. Starting Monday afternoon I will begin turning in school equipment, since I will not be returning to the school.
That is part of the sadness. I have bonded with a number of kids, both juniors and seniors. You have recently met two of those seniors who have joined this community, elliottcarter and addie for short. While they were in different sections, they are friends and both will attend the same outstanding university this coming Fall. Others of my students gave me gifts, or hugs, or have sent me Facebook requests. I enjoy remaining in touch with students.
But I realize that this could be the last time I say goodbye to students. I am 70, although I neither look it, feel it, or act it. That makes it hard to get another teaching job. I have twice taught sample lessons, had some phone interviews and talked with schools at job fairs, but as of now I still do not have a job for the forthcoming school year. I will during the next few months continue to apply, and perhaps something will open up: after all, I did not get the job with which I began this school year until the Thursday before I had to report on a Monday.
But I am not hopeful.
I cannot fully retire. We need some additional income from me because of what we have been through with the illness of my beloved wife. We might downsize to make things easier. I have skills that would be transferable, but changing the kind of work at my age is exceedingly difficult.
Besides, given my druthers, I would still prefer to be teaching, even were I able to make more money doing something else, which in fact I probably could not.
In the meantime, not knowing what we face going forward, we are cutting back on discretionary spending. That means no more political fundraisers, for example. It also means that yet again I do not go to Netroots Nation, even though this year it does NOT conflict with my volunteering at the RAM/MOM health fair in Wise Virginia next month. We have made some adjustments so that I can again do that — it is a commitment of service I want to honor when I can.
I suppose I could worry a lot. I don’t. I have concerns. I am sad, but not depressed.
Life consists of changes. We have gone from a peak of 5 cats to now have only 2, with only one of those 5 left — and she helps us by being an incredible mouser! Even at age 15 or 16 (we cannot be sure because she was a rescue). We have changed several times — my attempting to retire, our making adjustments because of health.
We have been fortunate to be supported emotionally and spiritually by our respective religious communities, for Leaves her Orthodox Church parish and for me my Friends Meeting. We have been given assistance by friends, by family, by some people we do not really know- here I refer to the prayers and messages of support, the incredible quilt this community gave Leaves, and so much more.
The occasion of this was yet another job for which I applied for which I did not even get an interview, although I did get a message back to let me know the job is filled.
I am sad. Tonight.
Tomorrow I will be joyous as I watch my seniors, including Elliott and Addie, as they officially complete one stage of their lives and move on to the next.
The following Friday I will leave my current school for the last time. And then?
Who knows? I don’t.
At 70 perhaps I should be worried. Surprisingly I am not. I have in many ways had a rich life, especially because of my 20 years in the classroom, and also because of my participation in this community, both virtually and when I have been able to be with others.
As of September 21 Leaves and I will have been together for 42 years. We still have each others.
I may have a sad, but I know how fortunate I really am.
Peace.