Over.

I'm struggling to put into words exactly how I feel right now. My two years are up. My short-lived teaching career is over. Tomorrow, I will pack up the last pieces of my classroom and leave J. H. Gunn Elementary forever. While I do that, I'll find remnants of my students everywhere- the Disney tracings that Glenda gave me, the pencils Jaelyn tore erasers out of, the thirteen toy cars I confiscated from Sean.

I'll think of my kids from last year. Of Jacob, who figured out how multiplication worked on his own but could barely read. Of Taylor, who got a nosebleed every single day when we packed up. I'll think of Briona and the day I found bruises handprinted up her arms and onto her back. The sadness that was constantly behind Juwon's eyes.

I'll remember the days I hated it more than anything, the days when I was waiting in the parking lot at 5:25 am for the janitor to come and open the doors. The days when it was dark as I walked alone to my car. I'll remember my desperate hours spent planning, worrying, wondering how I would get some of these kids to read. I'll remember my craziest days when I wanted to go back to where I found myself after that first day, curled up in my cubby sobbing to my mom on the phone. The books and pencils and chairs that got thrown at me. The slammed doors. I'll remember the Mondays that felt like a whole week by themselves, the paperwork that took up hours of time. I'll remember the pain I felt knowing about the lives some of my kids led, lives filled with poverty and problems and neglect.

But most of all, I'll remember the moments when it all came together. When I asked how Ronaldo became such a good reader and he told me he dreamt it one night while he was sleeping. When Adrian remembered what the word elusive meant a month after we learned it. The excitement of the fun days. The hugs and high fives. The Friday dances on the bus lot. When they GOT it and their eyes lit up because they knew they got it.

My dad's always said that this is the greatest job in the world. And while I feel good about what is next for me, I can't help but think of how different life will be without those kids driving me crazy every day. Because when it came down to it, no matter what they did or said or threw, they were always just kids, growing right in front of my face and teaching me a hell of a lot more than I think they realized, a hell of a lot more than I ever thought they would.

I'll end this post with a quote from Destini's yearbook about me, which I think might be a better description of how I feel about each and every one of my kids:

My teacher is crazy and she is full of love and I want to squeeze the love out of her.... Right back at ya.