The Great Love Affair

     It is the story of a great love affair. Sometimes she had profound things to say. Often, he made her laugh. She gave her all to the relationship even when he seemed not to care. Their love was timeless. Every day she approached the relationship with fresh ideas, with a quick wit, yet holding on for dear life. While on long runs, she thought about how she could inspire him. She affectionately wrote letters and emails and even kept a blog about their relationship. It goes without saying that the love she had was simple and beautiful. Sometimes she stayed up late at night just to think about him--what she could do better? How could she continue to love him? It was not love at first sight; she doesn't believe in that. Yet, the love that was built over time is one that she did not want to come to an end. She's wanted this love since she was a child. Sometimes the love was not always reciprocated. They didn't see eye to eye. He got frustrated; she was overwhelmed. He didn't always listen to what she was saying; she sometimes did not understand him. Sometimes he gave her far more than she ever thought he was capable of giving. There was give and take in the relationship, and he accepted her for her flaws--her lack of confidence from time to time, her rules following ways, her love of the Beatles and hatred of Taco Bell and emojis. And she accepted his flaws--his procrastination, his desire to sometimes take the easy route and how he sometimes doesn't capitalize the letter "I" in his writing. Instead, they only grew to see what's beautiful about the other. The flaws were overlooked. And so saying goodbye will be hard. And that will happen this week. There will still be other love affairs; she will move on, but she will always remember.

       If you haven't figured it out by now, I am the one in love. This great love affair I reference above is the way I metaphorically (because what English teacher doesn't use at least one metaphor when writing?) write about my love of teaching all of you. Yes, as odd as it sounds, teaching is one of my true loves in life. I have a passion for teaching that is unlike anything I have ever experienced. And so, every year when I have to say goodbye to my students, it's hard because I feel like a piece of  my heart is broken and unable to be sealed back together.  I will learn to pick up the pieces when you graduate or leave my classroom. Yet, know that I will never be the same. I never am. The great love affair will go on, but it changes and morphs into something else every year I start teaching again.

      So, today, I want to tell you exactly what I've been in love with...

1. I love the way I can inspire. As a teacher, I can change attitudes and ideas. I can not only teach my content but teach values to make students better and make myself better. Last week, I received a letter from a student I never taught at Atlee. I have met this student only once, yet she wrote me a two-paged single spaced letter, stating how much she admires my 1% movement and ideas I spread about kindness. She had heard of these ideas from all of you (Thank you for spreading them). It made me realize the profound impact we can have, and quite frankly, this was a lesson I needed to learn more than anything this year.

2. I love that in teaching, every day is different. I never know what you will say, what kind of mood you will be in. There are definite distractions...water bottle flips and fidget spinners...yet, you make every day unique. Likewise, I can teach the same books year after year and still love what I do because every interpretation of a book is different. Last year, I spent nearly half of the year defending Stanley's heterosexuality in A Streetcar Named Desire. This year, I found myself defending the plot structure of Chronicle of a Death Foretold and how that novel is far better than you think. Every day is different.

3. I love that I can see growth in who you are as people and in your knowledge. I remember when many of you entered room 211 as freshmen. You had no idea about literary analysis. You were not used to speaking in public and working regularly in groups. Seminars were a novel idea to you. Fast forward to junior and senior year, and you've returned as mature young people who have changed for the better.

                                                                           

                             

4. I love your compassion. You are dedicated and committed. You are the captains of the teams you play on, the officers of the clubs you affiliate with, and the planners, the dreamers, the fighters. You are passionate for everyone and everything. You create websites for a 4 year-old boy battling cancer and pack over 3500 meals for those in need. Your compassion runs long, far, and deep.

 Rise Against Hunger Service Project

Caleb looking at his website we made for the first time.

5. I love teaching you due to your sense of humor. You make me laugh on a regular basis. Whether that be making fun of my Pace puns, my nuances and inconsistencies (I'll call my hatred for Taco Bell an inconsistency), you have a way about you that makes simple stuff funny. In doing so, you've taught me to slow down sometimes and remember to laugh.

6. I love teaching you because you enable me to be myself in the classroom. You help me grow as a teacher instead of putting me down. I've become better because of you.

     You see, ultimately, this love I have is unconditional. I long for the day when I can close my door to 211 and have anywhere from 13 to 21 faces staring at me again, ready to learn, ready to laugh, ready for whatever class brings us that day. If I could do it all over again, I would never have wished a single day away.  Over the past few days, I've been reading college essays written by the juniors. One student wrote the following, which seemed rather fitting for this blog: "We are not here to worry about our purpose or fear the unavoidable fate of death. We are here to simply find a passion and do what we love." In reading that--wise words written by a seventeen year-old--, I couldn't help but be reminded of the students I teach and why I do what I do--because I truly love it.

     So, yes, teaching has been a great love affair for me. I could quote the romantic comedy Jerry Maquire and state, "You had me at hello." From the minute you entered 211, I was excited to teach you. I could quote the famous film Casablanca and state "Here's looking at you, kid," as I genuinely have adored you being a part of room 211. I could quote the movie Hitch, in saying, "Life is not the amount of breaths you take; it's the moments that take your breath away." There have been so many moments in my classroom that have taken my breath away. Thank you for those.

     Some of you walked out of my classroom for the last time and will be seniors at Atlee next year. I will see you, but not on a regular basis. Others will walk down the aisles of the Siegel Center and across the stage to graduate on Saturday. I will be there with my ample supply of tissues and smile despite the tears that will probably stream down my face. It will feel like a break up, but it's not. I know that. For, in order for me to continue this great love affair with teaching, we have to say goodbye so that new students can enter my classroom for me to love and inspire and help grow. My passion would become stale otherwise. Writing this blog has helped me see this.  While it's hard to see you go, I know if I want to grow as a teacher and if you want to grow as individuals, we need to say goodbye.

     I'll close with something Steve Jobs wrote in his autobiography that really inspired me. Here's what he said: "Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle."  Always remember that in teaching all of you, I never ever settled. I don't feel qualified to give you advice on life. After all, I'm still trying to figure out this thing called "life" myself. Yet, if I was to give you one piece of advice, it would be simply that: Find your passion. Don't ever, ever settle.

Goodbye, my wonderful students, and thank you for everything!
                                                                                        -Mrs. Pace