Fly Baby Birds!

I often get asked this question, “What does the last day of school feel like for a teacher?” It’s so hard to explain.  How do I get others to understand the mixed  bag of emotions that occurs on this day?  How do I adequately explain my excitement, sadness, happiness, and emptiness?  How do I make sense of everything I am feeling?

That’s when this analogy hit me.

The best way to describe how a teacher feels on the last day of the year, is how a mommy bird feels as she teaches her baby bird to fly. You see, a mommy bird has spent her days protecting her babies.  Feeding them, keeping predators away, strengthening them, and teaching them.  She has watched over them carefully, knowing that the day she teaches them to fly is rapidly approaching.  She gives her babies all of the skills she possibly can.  Then it happens; she starts to stand away from the nest. This forces her babies to come out of the nest to get their food.  Sometimes, the mommy bird pushes the babies out.  This is not to harm them, but to allow them to live their life to their full potential.

You see.  This is exactly what an educator does.  On the first day of school, my students walk anxiously into my classroom. In that moment, they become my baby birds.  I spend the next 180 days teaching them, encouraging them, loving them, celebrating with them, disciplining them, and leading them by example.  I pour every ounce of me into them.  I do all of this knowing that the fateful day will come where I have to push them out of the nest.  I have to let them fly.

On the last day of school, as the final seconds tick down, I look (usually through tears) at my baby birds.  I know that they will walk out that door and become fifth graders.  I know they will move on.  That is when I really start praying hard that I have done everything I could possibly do to prepare my students for flight.  Did I teach hard enough?  Did I love them enough?  Did I impact their lives at all?  Did I do what I sought to do?  Every year, this anxious feeling creeps in, and this questioning occurs.

As educators, we may find out the answers to those last day questions within a few years.  And, very often, we never know the concrete answer to those questions. But, my friends, look out the window.  Look on Facebook.  Attend local events.  Keep your eyes and ears open.  Because, in those places, you will find your  baby birds soaring.  With a tear on your cheek, and smile on your face, you will then know that, yes, you taught your baby birds to fly.

And then, they fly far beyond anything anyone could have ever imagined.

Rest easy mama/papa educator bird.  You did your job, and you did it well.

To all of my baby birds I have had in my ten years of educating.  Fly! Fly my baby birds.  I am so proud of you.