On Being a Senior
by Tami Caraballo, 2020 NWESD 189 Regional Teacher of the Year
Editor’s Note: This is part of a series of articles written by 2020 Washington Regional Teachers of the Year about their strategies and reflections on teaching during COVID-19 school facility closures. See the rest of the series.
I am a senior — a senior teacher that is. After 36 years in the classroom, I am moving on to another adventure as a doctoral student. I chose this year to make the leap for several reasons but the one I want to talk about is my students.
I have had the most amazing 36 years in the classroom, and this year was no exception. My students are kind, considerate, compassionate, and they want to learn. When I chose to leave earlier this year it was because this was such a strong, dynamic group of seniors. Everyone wants to go on a high note, and this was it.
Except, it wasn’t.
I am like my seniors in that my expectations for celebrating the accomplishment of a career well done are just done. There is a profound sense of loss in this absence of closure. I suspect that is what we are all rumbling with at the moment. For our seniors and teachers like me who are moving on, it is overwhelmingly hard and sad. But then I think that this is life. There are powerful lessons in the process we are moving through and tremendous blessings in the small, daily things that we often miss. Our traditional plans are in a state of mayhem, and yet it is a hotbed for innovation. We all know what we can’t do, so the time has come to focus on what we can do. That is a powerful place to perch.
It states very clearly in my syllabus, and has for years, that I am not an online teacher. One needs to be in my class to reap the benefits. We are active, moving, and rarely seated. So reluctantly, I am growing. I have always been able to read a room and pivot. This has become harder without my actual room of students. I am reminded daily of what I have control over, which other than my attitude, is very little at the moment. I am learning the intricacies of Zooming, YouTubing, and letting go of mastery in favor of engagement.
I am still convinced that I am not an online teacher. I am a teacher growing — even now at the end of my classroom career — and working incredibly hard to continue to connect with my kids to be sure they are okay. This is what I can do. I can stay connected with my students, in school and beyond. I can cheer, cry, empathize, guide, and love as I always have done. I am a science teacher but more importantly I am an adult who nurtures curiosity, models positivity, and encourages young adults to be unafraid of failure. These are the hallmarks of my 36-year career. They are the things I do have control over, and they have not changed during this tumultuous time. When we emerge on the other side of this, we will all be in a different place than we expected but there is beauty in that, and for that I am thankful.
