I really can’t believe the school year is almost over. We have two more days of classes and then two days of finals. The end of the year is always bittersweet. Of course, summer break is forever welcome. But knowing I’ll never see many of these kids again that I’ve shared a classroom with for a hundred eighty days or so is heart wrenching. It’s the worst part of teaching, hands down. 

I often wonder if my kids sense my sadness. I imagine many of them must. Today I got a beautiful note and gift that reminded me that what we share is real and will be missed by both sides (please note the Harry Potter charm bracelet <3):


After a round of antibiotics, tessalone perles, and cough syrup with codeine…I drove myself to the urgent care last night, desperate for relief. 

The doctor and I got to talking. 

“What do you do for a living?”

“I teach math at Union High School.”

*Chuckles.* “I actually taught Geometry and Algebra II there for one year seventeen years ago. It was too hard. I became a doctor instead.”

There you have it, my beloved teachers. Doctors may make three times as much as us, but we’ve got the harder job. I have proof now. “Teaching was too hard. I became a doctor instead.” If that’s not ammunition, I don’t know what is. 

Carry on, Warriors. Our summer is almost here. 


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