When I traded in my first car for an upgrade, I got misty-eyed. When my husband and I sold our first home, I cried on the way to our new one. Even when I pitch an old mascara, I’m inclined to yell, YOU’RE MY BOY, BLUE! My issues run deep.
There’s just something about endings that make me weepy, and the conclusion of another school year is no exception.
Sure there are students (and colleagues…) I’m excited to bid a farewell or, more accurately, a SEE YA, SUCKA! But there are also those I’m so dang proud of I can’t help but reach for the tissue I’ve stuffed up my sleeve as they walk across the stage.
In my newest piece for We Are Teachers, I wrote about why end of the year goodbyes turn me into my Mother, weird public cry face and everything. Check it out HERE!