It's my last hours as a social studies teacher. On Tuesday I will go back to my regular subbing, which prob. means logging long bits dans le bibliotech. Being a librarian is what I'm designed for, indeed : but it's hard to withdraw onesself from 'the group' 's that I have been involved in the last four school weeks. I'm not gonna pretend that I am the equal as a teacher as the one I was subbing for - he's way more than outstanding- but I didn't do too bad. The pressure? Holy fuck, pressure is a screaming baby a or a drawn gun, but also it is a classroom full of teenagers who you have to direct each day to do profitable things. The pressure is wilde; but being a part of a group, especially the four wonderful groups of kids that i was part part of- is something I live for.
And today it was time to relinquish my role as their partial teacher. I enjoyed it. And mournful about not being able to walk into a classroom of their smiling faces in the context that is now passing.
End of the school year, end off the soccer season, end of the class in college= goodbyes are normal, but also melancholy.
Shit : curse the Irish race for making my parents so sentimental.
Curse my parents for fostering it in me.
Curses..............................if I didn't like being so sentimental.
And today it was time to relinquish my role as their partial teacher. I enjoyed it. And mournful about not being able to walk into a classroom of their smiling faces in the context that is now passing.
End of the school year, end off the soccer season, end of the class in college= goodbyes are normal, but also melancholy.
Shit : curse the Irish race for making my parents so sentimental.
Curse my parents for fostering it in me.
Curses..............................if I didn't like being so sentimental.
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