It's the end of the school year and I am exhausted. Most of my kids are starting to get quite unruly, just for the sheer anticipation of the summer. I, on the other hand, have mixed feelings. Suddenly my kids are doing what I wanted (academically) all year. They are reading with the delighted expression I dreamed of hearing. They are writing stories and are excited about publishing their final copies and moving on to another story. And they are complaining when the math isn't harder so they can have to work harder at it.
Who are these kids and what did they do with those other ones? (And is it mean of me to say, good riddance to those who left?) This is the hard part of the year, the final moments when we get it done, and get it right. And this is the part that makes me wish they had come to me this way to begin with. I'm glad we have our learning camp next week... Ancient Egypt here we come!
And so I guess as I let my students go to the next level (I've asked a few to stay just to hang out with me, but they've politely declined) I will begin thinking of how I can mold my new ones next year faster. And then I get a little excited about next year.
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