Here Goes Nothin'

My final week of teaching has arrived and with it, a mixture of sheer excitement and plenty of sadness. I was in the same spot two years ago, when I thought that after two relatively rough years in a middle school classroom I was out of the teaching profession completely. Though, I ended up back in the role of "Mr. Vest" months later at a school that was the complete opposite of what I had experienced in Harlem.

The memories that have come up within the past few weeks have created this pit in my stomach. Granted, I am happy to be making the next steps in my life and go for what is best for me. But...hell, the students from this past school year were the weirdest, funniest, and all-around greatest group of kids I could ever have imagined. I am leaving the classroom with an immense sense of joy and satisfaction at what was accomplished this year.

I know I write a lot about the awkward things that come up as a teacher...and the frustrations...and the oddities of it all. This profession ain't easy and I find it frustrating when people find out that I am leaving the classroom and say things like, "Wow! You made it four years! Good for you."

No, no, no.

Four years is nothing. Absolutely nothing as an educator. Let's not beat around the bush here, I am quitting. I think back to the teachers I had growing up, the ones that really inspired me. They were in their 20th, 25th or even 35th year of teaching around then....and some of them are still at it.

I came to an understanding about myself this year that, while I do posses a drive to be in the educational field, I needed to find where I truly fit within that sphere. I hope that my next year in Cambridge will give me that direction.

Until that comes to a head, I will savor these final days with my little lunatics and try to recount some of those memories with you here.

Wow...a post sans snark. That's not ordinary here.

For the sake of stickin' with the theme, let's post a picture of Andy Coopy: