There's a lot of history accumulated in 22 years in a district, especially such a small one. We have three schools--one each of elementary, middle, and high. I've worked in two of the buildings, and worked with folks from the third. As I said last fall, it's been time for me to move on for a long time, but my rut was getting pretty dang comfortable. The closer I got to retirement age...the more I was afraid I would turn into "one of those teachers" that others wonder about: "Isn't she about ready to retire?" "I don't know, but I sure wish she would!" So, to save myself from that fate (and others from having to work with a curmudgeonette) I decided to take a huge leap...and go somewhere totally different. Here, I teach students to speak English. (But I also speak Spanish.) There, I will teach students to speak English. (And I don't know a word of Arabic--yet.)
I broke the news to my students today, and their reactions were endearing. No doubt about it, I love these kids and will miss them. But I fall in love with kids year after year--and then they graduate and move on...and we all survive the transition. We will weather this change as well. I asked them to give me advice. One wrote "Keep a gun at your side at all times!" (Ummm...no.) Another expressed concern that my skin would get too brown. (Not a chance--I'd burn and peel repeatedly.) A girl worried that the food would be strange--what would I eat?? Most of them advised me to have fun, enjoy the adventure, and to never forget them. Good advice.