This is my final week in my current placement. My cartwheels look weak, floundering, and lazy. Excitement halted by the realization that moving on will mean leaving this room.
These students and their strange quirks.
These learners and the look in their eyes when they think they "get it,"
and the feeling I get when they do.
This curriculum (I heart VA History).
This on-again-off-again smartboard, the vindictive boyfriend that it is.
This CF, mentor, teacher, colleague, and fellow admirer of choreographical genius.
With each lesson, with each hour, with each day that rolls by, I am closer to the closure of this step in my journey. There are no more "If I can't get to this today, I can do it on Monday." There is a strange sense of urgency as the week rolls away.
I slowly pack up my things. Those post-it notes that clutter my desk, and my mind. The morning meeting activity I never got to (it was a backup - of course). My jacket. My pencil. My highlighter. My homework checking pen.
Will those second graders appreciate the slight sparkle to my ink?