Personal Stories From Our Readers: Teacher Carol Reedy Rogero on The Final Week of School
5:30 a.m. “I think I can, I think I can,” I moan as I silence the alarm and will myself to rise up and do it again. Five official days are left of the school year, according to our county calendar. Juxtapose that with the calendar that half of my sixth grade class is now operating on and, well, in my dear father’s words, “I’m up the creek without a paddle!” Of course we don’t teach to the test, but our entire school year seemingly culminates when our state assessments are over in March. I’ve spent countless hours making everything old- new again, dressing up reading comprehension and pre-algebra lessons for the text-all-night, game-all-weekend, give-me-glitz, adrenaline, and oh-that-next-shiny-thing-is-attractive, sea of 23 faces that stare me down each morning, seeking what they came for: camaraderie, attention, fun, and a side of learning!
From Spring Break on, I must convince my 23 children that EVERY day matters. Tough assignment with a crowd like them, but thank God there are always a few that, in their own ways, let me know that what I do does matter! Kindergarten teachers get the big, hard hugs. In 6th grade it’s more often pleas to read just one more chapter, eyes meeting with hunger or embarrassment, and smiles of gratitude. I have a reminder taped to my desk that says, “Even at your worst, you may be some child’s best hope.” There are more than a few sets of eyes for whom I know that is true. Although I never feel like I’m capable of doing much to change their circumstances, I do strive to give them my best, and hope that something that emanated from my mouth today made an impact. Or at the very least, more of an impact that the evil eye, the disappointed shake of the head, or the “I can’t believe I’m yelling at you on day 175 about how to line up” rant!
I power through the week, living for 27 minutes of lunchtime solace while inhaling my 175th brown bag lunch this year. My peers and I remind ourselves that we’ve stood the test of time before. We bemoan the fact that our request for a valium salt lick to be installed in the teacher lunch room was once again tabled in response to lingering public uproar over our most recent pay raise, three years ago. Graduation practice proves challenging as mob psychology sets in and a few jokesters take the stage for their prime-time audience. We remind ourselves again of the Little Blue Engine, and although non-conforming now, the jokesters always settle down on grad day and make parents proud.
At the last practice, we hand out report cards and sighs of relief abound. A few students almost knock me into next year, practically jumping into my arms squealing, “I passed!” “I know dear, I did your report card,” I laugh! Practice is a wrap and we go outside for Fun Day! Everyone enjoys pizza, a real DJ, limbo and hula hoop contests, as ecstatic adolescents flit here and there, drinking in the moments. Kids in other classes whom I’ve barely spoken to all year, as well as kids who have butted heads with me, bring their yearbooks for me to sign. Much to the delight of my kids and my osteoarthritic hips, Mrs. R even gets a little wild with the hula hoop!
Final day. We’re sitting on stage and looking out upon our kids, who’ve cleaned up nicely, wearing their best smiles. Achievements are recognized and we shake the hands of all 110 of them (thanks Germex™), as they receive their certificates of completion. Our eyes tear up over some and we think, “Thank you Lord for keeping me out of the headlines,” with others. The ceremony ends and most are checked out by their parents. Eight are left with me for the day. I’m now able to weave my “favorite aunt” personality into my authoritative teacher persona, as we share chips and soda and laugh about things that weren’t as funny earlier in the year. One particularly challenging student asks me to tell how I’ll remember her. “Give me an adjective,” she demands! I laugh and respond, “Unforgettable!” We start stacking chairs for dismissal and she is flabbergasted by the tears running down her cheeks. “I didn’t intend to cry,“ she sobs. Hugging her shoulder, I whisper, “I know, sweetie. Sometimes it just happens that way.”
The final bell rings and our classroom is silent. Smiling, I remind myself that next August will present me with another bunch of 11-13 year olds that I don’t INTEND to fall in love with — but I will.
The eSSSence of Carol Reedy Rogero
Style: I’ve always been a “long road" taker, embarking hardheadedly on the slightly left of center path to accomplishing anything.
Substance: I’m passionate about education and have been known to rant on quite a few occasions!
Soul: Two and a half years ago, I experienced the third most awesome moment in my life, witnessing the birth of my granddaughter.
I am a little biased as this is article was written by my lovely wife but what a great read. She didn’t let me read until it was published here so it would be a surprise to me. I was moved to tears in the second to last paragraph when the little girl said that “I didn’t intend to cry,“ and my wife’s reply that “I know, sweetie. Sometimes it just happens that way.” My wife will tell you that I am not moved to cry often as I am Engineering Manager who is more on the analytical side and left brain thinker which serves me well in managing my team of 250+ people at work.
My wife is a great teacher. She is hard but fair and truly tries to prepare her students to succeed when they move on in their academic careers. It is a shame that as a profession, they are not more compensated for their talents and efforts as they are shaping the minds of the next generation. Even with all the challenges at being an educator in the 21st Century, my wife does a great job and really cares!
She also has a passion for writing and I am excited and proud of her for stretching herself to get her musings ‘published’ for everyone to read.
Great job sweetheart!
GREAT STORY WRITTEN WITH FEELING, WOW! I AM SO PROUD OF YOU. LOVE ALWAYS, DAD
We need more teachers with hearts like this!
Wonderfully written piece. This is exactly what those last few days are like and Carol captured them beautifully. Your writing reflects the good teacher that you are!
Wow! You have no idea the honor that I have right now to not only have been able to work with you, but you have taught me so much just being my neighbor, my mentor, my friend, and my inspiration! I was not much older than the children I taught my first year of teaching and I have no doubt that you have made an impact on my success as a teacher! Thank you for what you do for our children and for all who enter your world! That was fantasic and I am proud and honored that you finally let me in on this secret of yours…your amazing ability to write! Please…GIVE US MORE!!!!!!!!!
What a beautiful piece! I have been there, in those final days of school. It does seem as though the ones who made you the craziest all year are the ones who end up appreciating you the most…and the ones you hate to see go. I also have a note taped to my desk that says “The 8 hours they are with you might be the best 8 hours of their day.” I have a feeling there aren’t many teachers out there who don’t feel the same way, but Carol expressed it beautifully! Thanks and Cheers!
This was a great story. I never thought of the perspective from a teachers point of view and it makes you realize what a tough job the teachers have to keep the children focused the last days of school. I really liked the humor and passion that Carol showed in the story for her students. Great job …
Great article… Funny and inspirational…
My daughter in law makes me so very proud! She is helping to shape the next generation of young adults. I hope that more than a few of her students take the words. thoughts and ideas that she shares with them during the year and they help to make a difference in their lives.
I know for a fact that she has more patience than most and it takes that type of personality to teach in today’s world.
The young lady that asked Mrs. R for a word that would describe her and Mrs. R. said: “Unforgettable” – that girl will never forget that word or Mrs. R. I wish there were more dedicated teachers like her. The children of today need the patience and preservance of a personality like hers. Unfortunately, we do not pay our teachers enough considering that they are shaping the next generation!
I know she has made a difference in more than a few children’s lives and will continue to each year.
I have know this young lady for many years. I believe 100% that the children who pass through her class year come out with more retained knowledge because of her passion for teaching. Keep up the good work Carol Lynn.
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