Today was Graduation Day for about 630 senior at Eleanor Roosevelt High School in Greenbelt Maryland, the school that has been my home for 13 of the past 14 years, and from which I will be retired in 2 weeks. This was my last retirement as a member of the staff, although I hope to show up for the next two to see the last of my students off.
This was an amazing class. They won $26 million in scholarships. I could list the many honors collectively and of the individuals. It is special to me, since most of the officers of the class and the SGA and both the Valedictorian and Salutatorian were my students 2 years ago in AP Government.
As is my practice I helped line up a row of girls before they processed into the Comcast Center for the ceremonies, and then when they came out to get their real diplomas (they receive only the shell on stage, then come and pick up diplomas and various certificates alphabetically after the ceremonies) I stood at the exit to congratulate them.
But there was more.
Our principal added something to his remarks I had not previously heard (although perhaps he did it last year when I was off reading AP exams). He mentioned the seven teachers who were retiring. My name was mentioned last.
Some of the students had actually not known until then.
As I was congratulating them, many of them were congratulating me.
This was a bittersweet moment. I realize that my time in this school is coming to an end. Tomorrow my department is having an informal reception for me in the 2nd half of the school day. Some people from my past will come from outside the school, teachers and other staff will drop in.
My spouse will drive down from Delaware where she has been with her ill mother to join me for the celebration.
But today was about the students. Some have grown in so many ways in the two years since they left my classroom. One girl in the row I lined up is now with her heels taller than me. That is at least four inches she has added.
Other have grown emotionally. Intellectually some have really blossomed.
More than 1/5 of the class got into U of Maryland, where our graduation was held. Many of them will stop by school to keep us up to date about them.
Others will go to colleges and universities all across the country, some prestigious, some less well known. Some are going directly into the military. A few are going to work.
There were some I was particularly delighted to greet. Two, Kamelia and Anthony, came and volunteered with me at a free dental clinic. Others I have watched blossom as athletes, musicians, actors. . .
I am now finishing 17 school years. I have attended 12 of the 13 graduations at Eleanor Roosevelt. In case i had some students, in some cases my athletes or my performers in musical theater. If I consider the students I taught in two middle schools, well more than 2,000 students have passed through my care.
I was recognizing students exiting I have actually not seen since they left my classes - we are a big school. I was surprised by how many of the names I recalled.
They were excited - they had reached and passed a milestone.
My part in their achieving that milestone was in most cases relatively minor. I might argue that in many cases I got more from them than they got from me.
This coming so soon since I returned from my college reunion made it especially poignant for me.
In a sense, even though I still have two assignments to read and grade from my non-seniors, as of now in many ways my school year is complete. Tomorrow others will honor me. That will seem strange in many ways. I am glad it is informal.
Today was somewhat more formal. As it should be.
Today they were no longer our students.
Today it was okay for us to hug them.
One of those who spoke today, Lydia, is very tall. Her closest friend, Andrea, is one of the two shortest students in the class (the two shortest always argue about who is shortest). Somehow I managed to hug both Lydia and Andrea at the same time. That seemed so appropriate.
As I write these words my eyes are moist. I am glad for them, and somehow sad for myself. But I am that way every year after graduation.
I hope for their future. As I look at out at our nation and its politics and economics, I worry for them.
But today was a celebration.
As it should be.
As it was.
Graduation.
Joy.
Achievement.
As a teacher, now I finally let go of them and trust that they will be safe and happy.
Peace.