On the end of a season

I am a little sad.

One of my students from my first year of teaching came by to visit today. Five years later, it's incredible to see how much they've been changed, but how they still remember you and your class.

I started cleaning out my classroom this week. It's still quite cluttered with student work and miscellaneous materials, but it's starting to feel eerily empty.. Five years in this classroom, of nearly 900 days, 4500 periods, and of tens of thousands of projects and drawings started and (hopefully) completed. But of stories shares, relationships forged, and lessons taught and learned. I wonder what they'll do with it come Fall and who it'll be replaced with.

It's funny that I essentially took the past two years waiting for this time to arrive, and now that it's finally here, I'm wondering if I'm really ready to let go.

Two years ago, the day after I received my acceptance letter from NYU Wagner, I watched Keith walk into first period and suddenly felt immensely sad at the thought of not being there to see him through high school. Well, two years later, I've seen that class make their way towards graduation and I feel more ready. But then there is the thought of next year's class.. I guess the cycle must come to an end sometime.  I'm glad it's ending with Keith's class.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. In particular,

a time to seek, and a time to lose;

a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

- Ecclesiastes 3.6

Still seeking closure, but thankful at least for this season of time to work with these students and all that they've taught me.

Family

I've been seeing my brother, Sam, more often, who has been temping in the city for the past few months, and it's been.. really nice. This is probably the first time I've seen him on a consistent basis since high school. In terms of actually spending time together, this is probably the first time since.. we were kids and would play outside together.

I feel rebuked because I'm learning how little I really know my brother. Apart from our occasional spats and my belief of his immaturity and inconsideration, Sam has always been the prototypical middle child - often overlooked and neglected. That, coupled with his taboo learning disability.. Sam's opinions and assertions have often been dismissed with a grain of salt because it's hard to figure out if his perception of things are indeed believable. Suffice to say, when he first asked to visit my home group on Fridays, I agreed hesitantly because I was afraid he would come off as awkward and I would be embarrassed.

But I've been proven wrong. Sam shares insightful things. He quotes scripture. But most of all, his undeniably pure faith and strong belief in God shows me how my own faith has left much to be desired. And how wrong I am about my brother. He is relatable. And capable. And God is hopefully changing my heart to see all this in order to love him for who he really is.