Here we go again.

Salvete.

School ended. I worked graduation. And now summer is almost over.

Graduation was interesting. I got to wear my regalia for the first time, which made me proud of myself. It felt like my own graduation, in a way. On my original graduation for my Masters of Education, I had to work, so I did not walk (nor did I really want to). This more recent experience of watching those kids walk across the stage was the best graduation ceremony I could have wanted for myself. In a way, it really was my graduation. My first ever group of students graduated from high school. I taught mostly freshmen my first year (in Houston), but I did have some sophomores in my two Latin classes. I keep up with five or six of them on Facebook (gasp!), so I have gotten to see their status updates -- waiting to hear from this or that college, attending senior prom, and experiencing the joy and anxiety that come with a new chapter of life. At my current job, where I have taught sophomores from the beginning, I had repeaters who were junior level age-wise. They too graduated this year.

As I sat with my row (row 13 pink! best row in the place!) and watched those people walk across the stage, I felt genuinely proud to have been a part of their lives. I do not know where their roads will lead them. For some of them, the only thought in my head was, "None of us ever thought this day would come." They were the ones who seemed to feel that their only mission in life was to make us miserable. However, there they went, there they walked. I hope they are ready.

The summer has sped on as I have done my best to slow it down. I have tried to savor every day of freedom, knowing what is coming. I suppose I am ready for the new year. For the past two weeks, my ever-present and ever-vivid dreams have been riddled with nightmares of disobedient students, humongous class sizes, and failed lesson plans. These phantoms have done nothing for my confidence, but I have tried to push them away in the morning light. It will be excellent to see my colleagues on Monday for our staff development, to see my desks neatly placed, to make copies, to walk the halls of a school I have loved for many years -- long before it was my employer.

And even if I am not ready, the children will come anyway. Whether or not you teach, they will come, so you might as well teach your heart out for them.

Believe me, I intend to.

Valete,
Magistra