Door Closing

So it’s anticlimactic, sad, hopeful. I’m cutting “official” ties with my high school. I still have things to do – out of responsibility and out of caring – but it will be as a volunteer. And I still own the school’s Google domain. Gotta see about transferring that, finally, to the business office.

I’m working full-time at the university and life is going on. Being the cold-cut in the middle of two pieces of rye bread is hard. Time-consuming. A blessing. A mom who is getting older, kids who are getting married. All require love and care. So something has to give and it’s the place where I’ve been for the past 20 years.

I didn’t know for sure that it was happening until it happened. I emailed and asked if there was a transition plan for someone doing tech. I am relieved and delighted that the young lady who had been my student and has now taught and done much of the in-person tech has agreed to the role. I have so much respect for her and I will love helping her. But it would have been nice to find out from the powers that be without asking. I was worried.

I’m waiting for my principals to show up and give me a plaque. It can go next to the Teacher of Excellence one I got years ago. That wasn’t so much for teaching as all the volunteer work I did using my tech and art and education skills and knowledge. Yes, I’ll be hard to replace in some ways, but it’s time. Nobody is irreplaceable. And I’m using that knowledge at the university, BH. I could have attended the staff meeting and they told teachers I’m done and my friends were shocked that I didn’t tell them. I had to explain individually that I didn’t tell them because I didn’t know. I didn’t know until I reached out to ask. So we were all caught off guard. Yes, I had expressed the desire for a transition but I didn’t know that it was being put in place. Also, there’s an assumption that I will help the person (I will, of course I will) but my time is also valuable and if I had known, I would have shared more as we went along.

I love my university job, my team, the greater teaching and learning department. There is kindness and collegiality and brilliance. Who wouldn’t be happy?! And I get to use my skills. So I have to concentrate on that. What a great way to ‘retire.’

I have a million + letters (ok slight exaggeration) that I’ve written over the years to my high-school administration, colleagues. When I have problems I tend to try and write them out. Stream-of-consciousness therapy. It often helps. I still have resentments but overall there’s a kind a forgetful glow covering most of the perceived slights or misdeeds. I started typing some of them here, but I don’t need to bad-mouth and overall my joy of being at the school overweighed the other ten-fold.

So I’m moving on. Twenty years. New door.

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