Hard to believe I'll be done with my current job in under 40 days. Part of me is already welling up with anticipatory nostalgia: the sadness for things soon to be past. It seems almost unjust, somehow, for me to end my career at YB on such a high note: no unruly students, and full support from office staff and colleagues. I'll definitely be sad to leave this job which, despite its relatively minor imperfections (all lovingly documented here), has been good to me overall. I'll miss the staff and my coworkers, and I'll definitely miss my students. Teaching at YB turned out to be surprisingly fun.
I had originally entered the job—which I'd found on Craigslist in early 2011—under the impression that I would be teaching SAT prep courses only to high-schoolers, so it was initially disappointing when I discovered that much of my student base would be squirmy little elementary schoolers. Those kids (excepting the truly difficult ones, like Maximus and Iblis) have often turned out to be the highlight of my day. In interacting with them, I've learned a lot about dealing with kids; they've taught me as much as I've taught them.
My high-schoolers provide a different pleasure: many of them are looking forward to college, longing to leave high school behind and step, finally, into a bigger cosmos. I relive a bit of my youth when I see the anticipatory gleam in their eyes, or when I work with them on SAT prep or college-application essays. Knowing that they have so much future left to them inspires both joy and a bit of envy: at age 43—well, 44 as of August 31—I see the possibilities of my own life ineluctably narrowing and dimming. So sitting with my high schoolers affords me a refreshing draft of youthful potential—echoes of energy and hope.
I'll miss YB. Warts and all. Hell, I'm missing it already.
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