Changes...

After 16 years in the profession, I am now ending the chapter of being a teacher. I have accepted a specialist job for my school district. It will be new and difficult, I am sure. It is a change - which is good - but still scary as hell.

As most of you know, I have been a Resource Teacher (for what feels an eternity). In fact, I was the only one at my H.S. this last year due to nasty budget cuts.  My caseload has included mild learning disabilities, high functioning autism/Aspergers, and a variety of behavioral disorders. I have taught English, Reading, Government, and co-taught Biology.

 I sincerely believe that the population of kids I have worked with are getting harder. As a teacher and case manager, I used to feel like I sat in their passenger seat and acted as a navigating support. I now increasingly  feel like I am pulling their car with a rope through the mud. And with square tires. For every 10 very difficult situations, there was 1 positive. After time, that 1 positive is not enough fuel to keep the fire going.

I will miss my interactions most of all. I have worked with some wonderful students, parents, and staff throughout the years and it is hard to give that up. I have loved being the cheerleader for these kids that have faced hard knocks. But at the same time, my job has not been all roses. The paperwork is endless and the compliancy stuff is continuously shoveled on to an already overflowing plate.  Even though I have worked with some amazing students, there are an equal amount that are very challenging and don't seem to care. Let me take that back ... I believe that they ALL do care, but it is often extremely difficult and sometimes impossible to find their spark. And really, who has the time? I have not even been able to take a lunch since 2009 and put in countless overtime hours, let alone finding the time to really sit and work with a student 1:1 in order to peal down their layers.

The last few months of this year has really sucked me dry.  Besides bending over backwards to create engaging and interesting lesson plans that they still grumble at and usually don't do anyway - I had one of my favorite students get hauled away in handcuffs, another was fired from a job (that we fought for him to get) for stealing, and anther's head slammed the desk as he passed out from his daily drug of choice (and no - it was not because of his claim that he fell asleep because he found my lesson on the Executive Branch as "boring as sh*t").

The final straw was on the last day of class. I had worked with this one student for 3 years. She was not a particularly easy student to work with, but I saw past that and grew very fond of her.  During the last few minutes of class, she came up to my desk. I was assuming (hoping) we would exchange some kind words with each other for a good-bye, but instead, she asked if she could leave class 3 minutes early to go to the bathroom. Before I had the chance to even look at the clock and process the question, she started to throw a fit about it JUST being 3 minutes, and what's the big deal, and like OH MY GOD!!!,  (etc.). Mind you, this was a typical exchange between us.  I let her go, then let the rest of my class leave 3 minutes later. As I closed the door behind my last student, I started to cry. I cried because I knew that I cared more than (she) they did, and I just felt drained. Absolutely spent. She stomped out of my room never to see me again - most likely never to give another thought of her nagging teacher, but I will never forget her.

Realistically,  I do know that I did a lot for this girl that she probably appreciated along the way. I also know she would not have stepped up to that graduation podium without the supports (ie - daily battles and hoops to that were jumped through) that  I implemented for her - and I know that is a big something to someones life.  Logically, I also should not expect her to care or think of saying "Thank You" largely in part of her disability to process that sort of stuff.  I used to be OK with this, but not anymore. It was at that moment that I knew I was starting to internalize too much and was just not resilient enough for this anymore, so I got on the computer and warmed up my resume.

Yes, this might throw a wrench into the adoption plans as I feel it would be a disaster to get a referral   the first few months on the job, but I decided that I will cross that bridge when/if that happens. Even on Monday I got a frantic email from my caseworker that I better get that new paperwork in because they are expecting not only one, but TWO referral waves shortly. As I hear this, I now sigh and roll my eyes. I have no more fingers and toes to count with how many times this last 5 years I have heard that one.

I just need to face the facts:
1) Last year at this time, we were #6 and now we are #8.
2) There has not been a referral for a youngster in over a year.
3)  I need to now choose  to continue on with my life - and try to get back to my "happy place".  I have put enough on hold, which has just about led me to lose my sanity. What good would I be as an adoptive mom that's been made crazy as a loon with the wait? I am moving on for sanity's sake and just hope that the cards fall into place from here on out... if a referral should ever manifest