I’ve probably written somewhere else in this blog about how I find the gradual spiralling at the end of the school year from busy purpose to a kind of dissolving nothingness, a bit dis-spiriting. I often find it feels bitter-sweet to farewell a class you’ve taught with purpose and energy as they (naturally) go their own ways, especially maybe with Year 12s as they leave the school as well.
So, this article by Secret Teacher in The Guardian, struck a chord with me. It was interesting that a young primary teacher feels a bit the same. I don’t think it’s ‘love’ exactly, but it is something felt; partly at the work and energy and effort you’ve got into getting something running well, to see it wound up and undone. But, also of course, the individuals you’ve worked with, discussed with, wrangled with, who’ve become part of your life. Until next year.