Autumn is Here

Someone whispered the word “fall” and suddenly, this:

Someone is excited for the season.

Someone is excited for the season.

Ghosts of the Past, Hopes for the Future

Before the school year began in August, I had a series of nightmares (as I often do before something big happens). In these nightmares, I was trying desperately to teach a new class of bright and joyful students, but the ghosts of my last class kept interrupting. They walked all over my room in their ghostly forms and made such a racket with their banging and talking and complaining, that I couldn’t teach my new class.

Of course, that’s just nonsense brought on by my own worries for the new school year. I looked forward to the opportunity to teach a new group of students who were much better behaved than my last class of crazy kids.

Just before the school year started, however, I received word that I would be teaching remedial reading in multiple grade levels across middle school, including, but not limited to, my students from last year–particularly, some of my most challenging students from last year. Suddenly my nightmare seemed more like a premonition than a silly dream.

The first few weeks of school went a lot better than I had expected, though. Most of my students were excited to be working with me and I felt relieved to know that I could build off of the past to ensure a better year for all of us.

But last week, everything changed again. Our school received word from the district that we had too many teachers and too few students. Two teachers needed to be transferred out to another school and everyone else was going to be shuffled around to cover the changing classes. Within that week, I went from teaching 6th, 7th, and 8th grade reading, to teaching 6th grade Language Arts exclusively. And just like that, my past students whom I both loved and dreaded were cut out of my day, like ghosts.

Sure, they’re still alive and making plenty of noise at the end of the hallway. I can still hear them when they go to lunch. And every so often, I see them walking between classes, or ducking around the hallway during classes, trying to avoid the Behavior Management Technicians who act as bouncers for the school.

It’s a bitter sweet feeling to let go of them so soon (and yet so late considering I already had them one full year). And now, as I transition into 6th grade Language Arts, I know that I’ll never have a class as difficult as that one (God willing), but I’m sure to always be surprised by the students handed into my care. I can already tell, these 6th grade students are going to be an interesting time–like a party at a zoo.

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