Final Days of School: Lesson Learned

It's another 70 degree day and all the kids are wearing their shorts and t-shirts. I spoke with my son's teacher at drop-off and even she had visions of the last couple of weeks of school when everyone can finally take a breath.

On my drive home, I was struck with a memory of my last day of sixth grade. A late bloomer who started kindergarten at age four (a bad combination), I struggled and sobbed my way through six years of math. At each grade, I can point to that crystal clear moment (to me anyway) where teachers and my parents should have said, "That's it. She needs to stay back." I don't know why it never happened. I excelled at reading and writing and did OK at science and social studies. I had plenty of friends. This was the 1970's and maybe they figured this little girl with pigtails wouldn't really need math anyway.

You know how the last couple of weeks of school are. The teachers are toast and the kids are ready for swim lessons and popsicles and long, lazy days with friends. I think my sixth grade math teacher must have known I had no business graduating to junior high, but there we sat on the last day of school trying to squeeze in one more lesson so I could fulfill the requirements. I remember it so clearly. She (pictured behind me in the above photo) had a cold or maybe allergies. She was blowing her nose constantly and it was clammy in the classroom. We pushed on, while everyone else was outside for the final field day. I could hear them playing games and shouting.

Then suddenly, the teacher said that was it. Time to go out. She was so good to me. She tried so hard. She probably knew I should be held back but that in sixth grade, it would be devastating. I think she knew I was going to squeak by in math for the next six years. Still, I'd like to thank her for being there for me--sitting right up close to me and encouraging me and then knowing when enough was enough that day.

That last day of school feeling is blowing in the warm air. Now, thirty or so years later, my son is wrapping up his second year of kindergarten because repeating was the right thing to do and everyone knew it. Lesson learned.