For this weekend's Trifextra challenge, we are being asked to write 33 perfect words about what summer means to us. I am going to launch right in and expand upon my post after you've had a chance to give it a gander.
The school year always begins in an empty classroom;
a teacher amid groups of girls and boys.
It ends with an empty classroom
and faint echoes.
I face summer's sun
First of all, allow me to take a final opportunity to thank all of you for welcoming some of my students into your ranks during our school year. "What's the prompt this week?" became a question asked far more frequently, by far more students, than I ever would have dreamed possible when I first dared broach the divide between my world and theirs by introducing them to Trifecta via the challenge concerning personification. Through your encouraging comments and extremely warm welcome, my students entered a world they thought off-limits because they were just kids or not talented enough. But, you helped prove to them that they were worthy and that, what they felt and thought actually had merit. What a powerful, powerful gift to give to children who thirst for affirmation and so rarely receive it. Thank you. Thank you. On their behalf, thank you ever so much.
Because I live for moments like those mentioned above, the transition to summer vacation mode is a difficult one for me. For the past ten months, I have been involved in a myriad of moments; small and big, that touched my heart and made my proud of how I have chosen to live my working life. But, then, on the day after the last day of school, the kids are suddenly gone. The school is sooooo quiet and the classroom, sooooo empty and dusty and still. The silence is always jarring. To go from being the centre of the universe to being the centre of only my own world; initially, always feels like a come down. It takes a good week or two to get the adrenalin to drain from my body and for me to finally begin to relax. I enjoy my summer off, once the teacher in me decides to power down but, it is not as easy a transition as most people may think. When the kids leave for home on that last day, the cliched image is of the teachers cheering and dancing in the hallways. Truth is, I tend to miss them the moment the door closes.
I will close by giving you one final chance to hang with Cheyenne. At home, on her own, this past weekend, she posted the following story. She never said a word about it to me. I guess she doesn't have to, does she? She is a writer now, after all. :)
Happy summer to each and every one of you.