Work Text:
Here I am, once again thinking in between the day’s commitments about what I can do as a queer elder, and as a teacher, and what Charlie and I try to do together to support the next generation.
Teaching is by its nature ephemeral. While most children cannot imagine forgetting the names of their teachers one day, their parent’s own fading memory of their year-three teacher’s name is evidence that some day, it will almost surely happen to them too. A teacher only has a short window in which to leave a lasting impression and teach important lessons, and the fact is, those lessons and impressions stick more with some than others. Even when we invest a lot of time and energy and love into showing a student the care they deserve, we cannot be certain that our effort will result in lasting memories on both sides of the equation. But while we hope that our words, or examples, and our love help in some way to shape them into the people they hope to become, after a few years of teaching it becomes clear that the impressions we leave are more general than specific, and the memories are much more about how the classroom felt and the friends they had there than times tables or prepositions. So as teachers, we get used to the reality that we remain a constant while our students change and grow each year.
But just because we are accustomed to the evanescence of our profession, it doesn’t make it any easier to say goodbye when it’s time for the students to move on. Likewise, when you put your whole heart into caring for a child who needs your help, it always hurts to let them go, even when it’s the right thing. I think about the students who have come to stay with us over the years, some for a couple of weeks, some for just a day or two. No matter how long they stay, that first day or so is spent making sure they know how loved and welcome they are. We make every effort to communicate as clearly as possible that for as long as they are here, or want to be here, this house is a safe and welcoming home for them. And just welcoming them in for a night is enough to change us a little. To leave a new handprint on our hearts. And that makes saying goodbye so hard.
But as long as they know they can land back at this soft place whenever they want, there’s not much else left for us to do but to prepare and wait for whoever the next student or class or foster will be.