May 29, 2020
Yesterday was the last official day of the strangest school year I have ever experienced. I have been involved in the public-school system for over 50 years as either a student, a teacher or a parent and no other year holds a candle to this one for “out of the ordinary”. It started out normally enough, but no one could have predicted that we would not return to school after Spring Break. I am experiencing a strange sense of loss. There was no closure to this school year. Yesterday, after checking my temperature and filling out a health questionnaire, I went up to school to “finish out the year” during my scheduled time slot, wearing a mask. The halls were practically empty. There was no one to see or talk to or celebrate the end of school with. There was no standing in line to check out and turn in keys while chatting about “what are you doing this summer?”. Everything was “virtual”. Several of my friends are retiring after decades at Cy-Fair High School and we didn’t get to say goodbye. (There were a couple of “retirement parades” driving by their houses, but no cake, no speeches, no hugs.) And what about the seniors, who missed out on all the culminating events of the last 13 years of their lives? No prom, no senior breakfast, no panoramic picture of the Class of 2020. At least our seniors will have an “in person” graduation. They may sweat to death, seated six feet apart with their four allowed guests looking on from the football stands, but at least they get to have the ceremony. But afterwards, no hugs, no high-fives, no real farewells, no tossing of their caps. They will not be shaking hands or be handed their diploma. They will pick it up off a table, then remove their mask only for their picture. So, I guess my sense of loss at the end of this school year, pales in comparison to those who are ending a chapter of their lives separated by social distance, wearing masks and thinking, “this isn’t at all how I pictured it would be”. So many people have the same question on their mind right now. When will things be normal again? Is this “the new normal”? The list of questions that no one can answer is longer than an outdoor graduation of 875 seniors on a June day in Texas. (Our superintendent, bless his heart, will attend ten of these next week. If I was him, I would wear shorts and a tank top under my big black graduation robe.) Since being kept away from my job, my students, my friends and my extended family, I have a new appreciation for “normal”. I hope to carry this lesson with me and not forget it. Perhaps this is part of God’s purpose, that we all learn to appreciate the ordinary days as much as the special ones. This year’s senior class and my friends who are retiring will have a story to tell for the rest of their lives. I hope they make it a happy tale and can get over that it didn’t play out as expected. Either way, they are graduated and retired and moving on to new adventures. I think we are all moving on to new adventures. It will be kind of nice to just be moving at all. Hebrew 13:8 assures us that even when everything is changing, Jesus stays the same. “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.” James 1:17 says: “But whatever is good and perfect comes to us from God, the Creator of all light, and he shines forever without change or shadow.” Joshua 1:9: “Yes, be bold and strong! Banish fear and doubt! For remember, the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Happy Trails and Happy Tales Class of 2020! Smile and be joyful!
Yesterday was the last official day of the strangest school year I have ever experienced. I have been involved in the public-school system for over 50 years as either a student, a teacher or a parent and no other year holds a candle to this one for “out of the ordinary”. It started out normally enough, but no one could have predicted that we would not return to school after Spring Break. I am experiencing a strange sense of loss. There was no closure to this school year. Yesterday, after checking my temperature and filling out a health questionnaire, I went up to school to “finish out the year” during my scheduled time slot, wearing a mask. The halls were practically empty. There was no one to see or talk to or celebrate the end of school with. There was no standing in line to check out and turn in keys while chatting about “what are you doing this summer?”. Everything was “virtual”. Several of my friends are retiring after decades at Cy-Fair High School and we didn’t get to say goodbye. (There were a couple of “retirement parades” driving by their houses, but no cake, no speeches, no hugs.) And what about the seniors, who missed out on all the culminating events of the last 13 years of their lives? No prom, no senior breakfast, no panoramic picture of the Class of 2020. At least our seniors will have an “in person” graduation. They may sweat to death, seated six feet apart with their four allowed guests looking on from the football stands, but at least they get to have the ceremony. But afterwards, no hugs, no high-fives, no real farewells, no tossing of their caps. They will not be shaking hands or be handed their diploma. They will pick it up off a table, then remove their mask only for their picture. So, I guess my sense of loss at the end of this school year, pales in comparison to those who are ending a chapter of their lives separated by social distance, wearing masks and thinking, “this isn’t at all how I pictured it would be”. So many people have the same question on their mind right now. When will things be normal again? Is this “the new normal”? The list of questions that no one can answer is longer than an outdoor graduation of 875 seniors on a June day in Texas. (Our superintendent, bless his heart, will attend ten of these next week. If I was him, I would wear shorts and a tank top under my big black graduation robe.) Since being kept away from my job, my students, my friends and my extended family, I have a new appreciation for “normal”. I hope to carry this lesson with me and not forget it. Perhaps this is part of God’s purpose, that we all learn to appreciate the ordinary days as much as the special ones. This year’s senior class and my friends who are retiring will have a story to tell for the rest of their lives. I hope they make it a happy tale and can get over that it didn’t play out as expected. Either way, they are graduated and retired and moving on to new adventures. I think we are all moving on to new adventures. It will be kind of nice to just be moving at all. Hebrew 13:8 assures us that even when everything is changing, Jesus stays the same. “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.” James 1:17 says: “But whatever is good and perfect comes to us from God, the Creator of all light, and he shines forever without change or shadow.” Joshua 1:9: “Yes, be bold and strong! Banish fear and doubt! For remember, the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Happy Trails and Happy Tales Class of 2020! Smile and be joyful!
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