Which means that in 4 months, school will be over.
I am tired.
A kind of tired that sleep, or even a week off, does not fix.
In the past year and a half my kids have made incredible growth in reading. Some grew over 2 and a half years in 10 months.
We met grade level math standards with 87% mastery even though some didn't know the addition and subtraction sign when we started.
We took field trips to places my students had never seen and proved so many people wrong over...and over....and over again.
And Mario incited a riot and assaulted the principal of the other school in our building.
And Elvis's mom died.
And some of my kids went to more restrictive settings.
And at the end of the day I walk away heavier. Sometimes I carry books, sometimes their work to grade, other times just the weight of their lives, and my own, that was relocated half way across the country for this experience and most days still doesn't really fit here.
Nevertheless, a year and a half later, it has been a long journey, and I need to wake up and do something else in the morning. It's not even about leaving them anymore. I will never leave them, I just won't be their teacher anymore.