Retirement Squad

A few months ago I was at the nail salon and there was a a group of women with Bride Squad t-shirts getting manicures as part of their festivities. For a second, I wanted my own bride squad, not that I wanted to walk down an aisle, I just wanted a time to hang out with close friends and laugh and celebrate. I started coming up with a list of who my squad would be, and realized that I have too many women and men in my life to narrow down to a manageable squad.

But when I heard rumblings on the retirement party some of my squad was planning, I was hesitant. Part of me wanted to just walk away without fanfare. Or maybe just rent an air b and b with a hot tub and fireplace and have a sleepover with five or six friends, cook, drink margaritas and laugh. Or maybe treat myself to a pair of brown leather boots, play Bunco and call it good. I really didn’t want anyone to go to a lot of trouble, or spend money on a venue, or have the spotlight on me, but at the same time, I knew marking the end was important. I craved closure.

The celebration could not have been better. It felt like a timeline of the best parts of my life in education. There were some students who dropped by and some parents, some of my family, and some of my friends, but mostly the men and women who have worked alongside me in some capacity over the years. That made a lot of sense to me. Sometimes being a teacher feels like being in a sailboat in a vast ocean with a storm on the horizon and the only way to stay afloat is to stand side by side by your teammates and lift the sail together. You share everything–celebrations, frustrations, a language that the rest of the world can’t even really know. For me, it wasn’t the kids, or the paycheck, or summers off that kept me in the classroom, it was my school squads. They are the ones that got me through the hard times and shared my joys and sorrows, and become my family in every way. So I was humbled and honored so many important people in my life came out to say good-bye. The respect and love shown to me filled me up in away that I may have never felt before. I am writing this with tears running down my face, not because I am sad, because I really felt seen, heard and valued in a way I didn’t know I needed. I left knowing that my time in the classroom mattered and it had impact that will ripple and echo in ways I will never fully know. I guess at the end of the day that is what any teacher really hopes for.

Thank you to everyone who has reached out with cards, letters, texts, hugs, stories–I have no words for how important this farewell has been to me. I just know that a big crowd has amassed to help me cross the finish line and cheer my accomplishments. It made me feel triumphant and strong and it’s exactly what I needed to carry me forward on the next stage of this journey.