I know there is a chance that this may not be my last year of teaching....but there is a good chance it will be. You see, in many counties in many states I would be deemed too expensive to hire on as a new teacher - too educated, too much experience. Right now I'm lucky to work in a district that is more concerned with your qualifications than how much they have to pay you....right now.
Tonight my students put on their awesome annual art and creative writing show. Six years ago, I, along with a colleague started a student-run fine arts journal at our school. For six years they have released a fine arts journal at this largely attended event. Every year over 200 people come to see their work. And we're not just talking parents here people....other students, former students, community members, administrators, and other faculty....they take time out of their schedule to come see students sell their artwork, to eat delicious food made by students, to listen to them read their poetry, and to listen to student musicians perform.
It is a beautiful night.
But tonight as the last musician was singing and I was devouring a delicious sugar cookie behind the food table I was brought to tears.
I don't know if my students will ever know how much they've taught me. I don't know if they'll ever know that on nights like these my heart swells like a giant water balloon on the verge of bursting. And I won't be able to tell them.
Because by the time I find out whether this actually may be my last year teaching, the seniors will be gone. They will have graduated and will be thinking about much more important things than their former art teacher - like what size dorm fridge to get for their new digs...or how to spend their last precious summer together.
What they won't know is that somewhere in a nearby city their teacher is packing up her life and leaving town.