"Everyday America," Sugarland
I've never been very good at goodbyes. As excited as I always am about the adventure-filled impending future, that one metaphorical toe always seems to be drawn back by some unseen force into the place I'm leaving, nostalgically attempting to grasp some piece of what will soon be my past. It's amazing how easy it is to overlook all of the struggle and loneliness and frustration of the past nine months when compared to the things and people I'll be leaving behind.
Don't get me wrong-- Santa Barbara is the place I need and want to be. On June 12th, I get to drive my favorite freeway in the world, California's very own 101, for what will feel like the millionth time. I get to take the more-than-familiar Hope Avenue exit and make my way to Willowglen Road. I get to park in front of my favorite house in existence and unpack my things in a residence I know better than any spot on this Earth, in a town I know and love more than any single city in the entire world. I get to return to my sun-saturated roots, take Bailey on walks to Willowglen Park, and become a regular again at Blenders, East Beach, the SBCC track, Los Banos, and Joe's. Above all of this, I get to return to a domesticity and day-to-day partnership with my best friend; my husband, and live amongst friends and family I've missed being geographically closer to. There isn't one atom of my being that questions whether or not this move is the right Next Step, and thinking about the little niche in the world that is San Roque neighborhood inevitably brings a smile to my face. I'm so excited about rockin' the suburbs Ben Folds style this summer.
That being said, thinking about what I'm leaving behind in Carlsbad makes my heart cringe and, especially as these final days of the school year rapidly approach, gives me a lump in my throat that's increasingly harder to avoid. I read the final chapter of The Catcher in the Rye aloud to my juniors yesterday, and the last line, fittingly, reads: "Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody." While I absolutely don't regret sharing my life and my experiences with my students, or wanting to be a part of theirs, it certainly does make it that much harder to leave them and this community behind.
I've spent a number of posts in this space discussing my teaching experiences, and I know I've commented on more than one occasion about my students' seemingly endless capacity to impress. Of course they have their moments of angst and rebellion and stubbornness. Of course I've felt pangs of frustration and anger and impatience. There are days I combat apathy and cheating and lying and disrespect, and head home with a heavy heart and a burdensome weight on my shoulders. However, the buoyancy and positivity and talent of these kids is nearly gut-wrenching.
This year, I've had a number of conversations with a number of students who are feeling world-weary and a little lost. Shaken by the "system" and angry at the people who've created it. Discouraged by their inability to change the world in a single day through a single fist raise and a little determination. Worried about the way their lives will unfold and whether or not their contributions will be "enough" to sustain the lives and legacies they wish to lead and leave behind. Beaten by algebraic equations and indefinite pronouns, unable to understand where these proofs and facts will ever fit into the great Puzzle of Life they wish to one day attack, solve, and conquer. Rendered apathetic by authority or misguidance or illegal substances. Defeated by people who let them down or didn't understand or just flat out forgot. Fear, anger, confusion, embarrassment, rebellion...the teenage cliche exists for a reason. However, once again I'm repeatedly awed by the resiliency that is the human spirit. My students, for the most part, continue to come into my classroom with open minds and willing attitudes. They ask honest questions and they share their lives. They smile, laugh, cry, and collaborate to cohesively form one unit of 172 individual forces who just happened to end up in room 3210 last fall. I am so tremendously proud of them--not only as students, but as people--and I will miss this final group of my Carlsbad High kids more than they know.
One week and three days from now, I will pack my CRV and head up the coast to a little seaside town aptly nicknamed the American Riviera. I will spend the summer swimming in my favorite expanse of the Pacific, rollerblading through the sidewalks of my childhood, painting and playing drinking games in the garage where I used to park my Acura Legend, and relishing the Hendry's sand in the bedsheets. But for now, I'm soaking up my final days in this little seaside town; laughing with my kids, walking Bailey on the sand in front of Tower 37, drinking Norte margaritas, and running along the Carlsbad bluffs just before the sun sets. Dr. Seuss advocates: "Don't cry because its over, smile because it happened..." Sage advice, although I can't imagine I'll make it through next week with dry eyes...
Nothing that is can pause or stay;
The moon will wax, the moon will wane,
The moon will wax, the moon will wane,
The mist and cloud will turn to rain,
The rain to mist and cloud again...
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
