Goodbyes

As a teacher, it's always hard to say goodbye to the 25 or so students you've watched grow over the span of ten months. The class becomes a family in that time; they share in each other's victories and accomplishments, as well as each other's failures, and create everlasting memories along the way. They're not even aware that they develop into a family, but they learn to care for one another in the ten months they spend together. They're oblivious to the fact that the real education they're gaining doesn't involve equations; it involves loving and accepting one another. By the end of the school year, they've formed such tight-knit bonds that to tear that classroom apart almost seems tragic.

The funny thing is that students often think the teacher is responsible for the great year that they share together, but the truth of the matter is that I usually learn just as much from them as they do from me. Hell, I'm inspired by them. I am constantly in awe of their creativity and imaginations, their wit, and that lack of inhibition that we sadly lose somewhere along the way to adulthood. They are why I love my job.

This year has been no exception. In fact, this year has been exceptional! On days when I got little to no sleep, these kids were the caffeine that carried me through the day. As soon as I stood at the front of the class and I saw the 25 pairs of smiling eyes looking back at me, and the hands waving feverishly to get my attention and say hi, I would always wake right up.

This week, I have to say goodbye to, not 25, but approximately 540 students who have brought smiles and laughter to my life for the past year, and it's killing me. Even though I haven't been able to get to know my students quite like I would back home--hell, I don't even know the vast majority of their names!--I'm still going to miss the hell out of them. I mean, I may not know their names, but I sure as hell know each and every single one of their personalities. I know the outlandish ones, the shy and self-conscious ones, the honest and dedicated ones, the sweet and angelic ones, the quiet, but creative ones, the weird ones, and the troublesome ones who just need the right kind of attention. I'm going to miss their enthusiasm for learning, their jokes, their laughs, and their overwhelming kindness towards myself and each other.

I didn't even last through Tuesday without breaking down. Those damn adorable Grade 3's were just too damn much. There was one girl in particular; her name is Bella. She's a brilliant, feisty little girl, and she single-handedly made the tears start flowing.

Remember that old episode of the Simpsons where Ralph takes Lisa to the Krusty the Clown 20th Anniversary Show, and Lisa breaks his heart on live television? There's a scene right after, where Bart keeps re-playing that clip from the award show over and over again on the television, and he says, "If you look closely, you can actually pinpoint the exact moment his heart breaks in two. Riiiiiiight there." That's exactly what happened when my co-teacher announced to the class that this was our last week together.

Now first of all, my co totally blindsided me with that one! I was expecting to make the announcement at the end of class, like we had done with the previous bunch, but instead, she broke the news right away, like she was trying to tear off a Band-aid. That's when I saw it; I saw the moment Bella's face flinched from the heartbreak. Then it softened into a look of confusion, like she didn't understand what just happened; and that's when the tears started...for both of us.

At that point, I knew I was a dead man. I opened my mouth to speak, and they got caught in my throat. The sight was just too much. And then do you know what the girl did?! So we have this game where we make silly faces to each other back and forth; and so this girl wipes away a couple tears, sticks her tongue out at me, and crosses her eyes. Do you know how hard it is to cry, speak, and laugh all at the same time?! I sounded like a dying hyena trying to say my goodbyes! And then another girl started crying, and that just made things worse! By the end of class, everybody gave me a card, and about three or four of them had added, "Don't cry" to their message.

I held myself together for the next class, because thankfully nobody welled up. However, there were two little boys who I've grown particularly attached to...they almost broke me. One was the boy I drew the Cartman picture for a while back after he exploded for losing at a game; the other was the boy who used the spare animal stickers in the textbook to create a giant BBQ bonfire. They're both rather isolated kids, because they seem to have trouble socializing with their peers, which is of course what drew me towards them. I always tried to give them just a bit of extra attention. The former was prone to emotional outbursts, while the latter rather liked weirding out his peers.

They both lingered around at the end of class, taking their sweet time in leaving, and saying goodbye about twenty times. Eventually, one of them just came up and hugged me for a good ten seconds. Thankfully, I held my composure this time around.

The majority of students I've asked have replied that the reason they enjoy studying English is that the teacher makes it fun. That's my job; I am the distributor of fun. I've had this talk with several fellow foreign teachers who are also teachers back home, and though it is irritating being unable to really get to know your students, you really don't have to; just make them laugh, and you'll be in their hearts forever. Hopefully, that will also translate into a continued love of studying English.

As Krusty said in his comeback special, "Send in the clowns."