Closing a Chapter

One last look before the move

Today was the first day of May! It also brought our end of year award ceremony, village clean-up, and community lunch. You see, these things happen on the last day of school each year. Though we’re letting out early, the events of the day were pretty much routine for Nondalton’s end of the year traditions. Except today was different.. Today, my day started with removing the final items from my classroom as the incoming special education teacher will be in a different classroom. Today, my principal made mention of the three teachers who wouldn’t be returning next year and I was included. Today, when the community lunch was over and kids began to run out the door to summer vacation, I was saying see-you laters that might be for good. Today I closed a chapter. 

I'll miss this classroom view!

Though Sam and I will remain in Nondalton until the end of May, I don’t know that I’ll see all of the kids again. Even if I do, it won’t be the same. I won’t get to see them shuffle into school tired in the morning or excited to tell me about something silly they did the night before. They won’t be teasing me for my rice cakes and turkey wraps at lunch time or asking me and Sam about our wedding or how Cessna is doing. If and when I see the kids from now on, it will be in passing around the village and just won’t be the same. And that’s okay, but it’s also surreal. I didn’t cry at school today, although I briefly teared up during the award ceremony. Even the kids knew they couldn’t count that as crying, because they witnessed me ball my eyes out (on the verge of ugly crying) a few days ago during our “talking circle” during Culture Week. I thought I might cry as I looked out at the lake from my classroom for the last time before grabbing the last of my belongings and turning it over to the next teacher, but the tears didn't come. As prepared as I had been for the tears to flow today, they never came during school. 

This brought all the tears

When the crying didn’t happen during school, I thought that since I’d been able to get some emotional release at Culture Week then perhaps I would get by. Or that maybe they’d come tomorrow during our final teacher work day. However, after school, Sam and I took advantage of the rare sunshine (seriously spring, it’s time to show yourself) and went out for a Honda ride. As we drove down the beach and rounded a curve along the river and the mountains, trees, and birds came into view, the dam broke and the tears flowed. It was this true release and there is no other way to describe it. I wasn’t thinking about school or the kids, and yet the tears began to flow and then of course the past four years surged by in memories. It was unexpected, but so necessary and it really helped me to find closure. Sam jokingly asked if I was rethinking my decision to leave, and I immediately responded through my tears with “no”. 

Adventures along the river 

As heart-breaking and bittersweet as it is to leave these kids, my kids, it’s time. The closure on leaving the village will come later. Today was closing the chapter of bush teaching. I am so ready to figure out what comes next for Sam and I, for our little family. I need change and am desperate for socialization and to be in closer proximity to family. And yet, I am leaving family behind here because think what you will but these kids really are “my” kids. I have been interacting with the same 25-ish kids for three and a half years, and have worked closely with about 7-10 of those kids for the same amount of time. I have seen the good, the bad, the ugly, and everything in between. I’ve been there for it all in these past few years and for some the growth has been unbelievable. I have celebrated their accomplishments, helped them fight uphill battles, listened to them discuss both the good and the bad situations at home, and I have faced life and loss with them. We have seen each other's silly laughter, tears of sorrow, tired eyes, and looks of excitement. I have talked with them about death more times than any adult should have to and they have seen me scarred and covered in bruises after a life threatening accident. They aren’t related to me by blood, but they have become my kids and will always be my kids when I think of and talk about them. 

Loving on the thawing lake! 

Though I get to keep calling Alaska home for the next two months (let’s be honest, I’ll always call it home), today I closed a chapter. I will no longer be a bush teacher or an itinerant teacher, and after tomorrow I am no longer an LPSD teacher. I don’t think it has really set in and I’m not sure when it will, but after writing in my journal I knew blogging was a must. I never want to forget these raw and real moments as they happen. I want to look back on these days years down the road and be able to relive all of the important moments. A presenter during Culture Week said this after I burst into tears, she said “It’s okay to cry, there’s nothing wrong with crying”. She also said "when you see someone crying you should hug them because it makes them stronger” and how lucky I am to have students and community members that have helped strengthen me during this time. What an adventure it has been!