In a few short days, I am going to have my last day with my 7th graders. I have only been with them for 60 days, but they have become my kids and the love I have for them is indescribable. I have been trying to write this post for a week now, but every time I think about it I nearly cry. That is BIG. I do not cry. I am not a crier.
As I look back over my time with these kids, it is hard to imagine not having them in my life. Those first few weeks as I was trying to build relationships with them and learn their personalities seems like a millennium ago. I know these kids so well. I know which ones can hack sarcasm, which ones need a hug, which ones need the silly me, and which ones need a more serious me. I can take one look at any given kid and know if today is a good or bad day in their world. They are my kids.
The same is true of them with me. My kids notice if I am having an off day or if I am especially playful. They are observant of me and how I am. They have learned to be this way, because, for them, trust is not given it is earned. They observed me, got to know, pushed my buttons, and finally decided I someone worthy of their trust. They are dreading my last day, too.
You see, I am in a school of kids that grew up quite differently than I. I grew up in a world where trust is given, respect is given. They are growing up in a world where trust must be proven and respect is hard to come by. Adults frequently walk out of their lives, their situations at home are not stable, and they have a hard time trusting people. I have become an adult worth trusting to them. They have performed their tests on me. They have been hateful, mean, pushed me away, and finally decided I will not leave them. Now, though, as my time is ending with them, that is exactly what I feel I am doing.
Every single day for the past two weeks, they have asked me when my last day is. They are dreading it. I am dreading it. I know I have been a source of encouragement for them, and I hope they remember me. I hope I have made a difference to them. They have made a difference to me. They helped me grow more than I could express to any one person.
As my time comes to an end with these kids, I know I will cry. I have written all 116 of my kids a goodbye letter and made them each a care package. A fun silly one.
I have prepared them for my last day, so they know it is coming. I do not want them to be ambushed by my leaving. I want them to know I am not leaving because of them. I want them to know I love them. I want them to know I am going to miss my babies.
Sincerely,
Miss
