I tried to fight it. I tried to hide it. But in the end, I let the tears run down my face–at school. This has now happened to me three times in my twenty-four years. Year two. Year eight. And now year twenty four. All three times I was caught off guard by a moment. Damn moments, they always seem to create leaks in this sentimental old fool’s face.

Year two. My first big goodbye. I had ended up following my first-year kids, whom I had as seventh graders, into eighth grade, so I had them for two years, and in that time we had become quite connected, quite close. For the last day of school, I had written the entire class a letter I called “The Last Word,” honoring each of the eighty-some kids with a personal mention. Before school started, just thinking about the moment started some premature leaking, and I went to a trusted colleague for some help, and she, a veteran teacher we called “Ma,” helped me patch myself up before class started. Thinking I had composed myself well enough, I headed to class (the bell had already rung). And as I walked in late, as if on cue, Green Day’s song, “Time of Your Life (Good Riddance),” started playing on the radio. The patchwork started falling off, and as I went to get the letters from my file cabinet, the dam broke and my face flooded in my “A fork stuck in the road” moment.

Year eight. Big move. Big changes. Moved back home here to Cheney. My wife, carrying our first child, stayed back in Royal with her fifth graders until it was time to have Finn, our son. So, it had been a hard, lonely transition that fall. Trying to hold onto the comfort that was Royal (taught middle school ELA there for seven years), I had been reading Freak the Mighty to my sophomores. We finished the book on Halloween, and as I read the last few lines, my voice caught a bit, and I was once again struck by a moment. I will never forget Matt Yancy’s patting me on the back telling me it was going to be okay, as I quietly cried at my desk. “No big deal.”

Year twenty four. Yesterday. It was at the end of our staff meeting and our student orchestra was there to play for us. And as they started to play, and as looked upon the amazing kids (both present and former students), I found myself caught again, and my face started leaking. But this one was different. I wasn’t crying amongst my kids in my classroom; I was crying amongst my colleagues in the library. Abashed, I hid it as best I could, and thankfully I think only a few witnessed my waterfall. Of the three moments, this was the most caught I’ve felt. Yes, the music was truly beautiful. Yes, I was immensely proud of the kids. And, yes, it was a moment, but it was not a moment like the others. So, I was surprised when the tears started trailing down my face. In my family, we talk about how we sometimes just need a good cry. And maybe that’s what yesterday was. Maybe I just needed a good cry. No big deal.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…cultivating kindness, connection, and community with our Kindness Cards.

…completing drafts.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.