The Big Goodbye

I am not good at letting go. I like my children to be at home. I am happiest with a full house. Yet, I am facing an empty nest. My younger child is about to leave for college.

When we took his older sister to college, just four years ago, the goodbye was quick and unceremonious. We had finished bringing all her things into her dorm room, set them up, and then she hopped out of the car, waved to us and it was over. There was no big meal or protracted hugs and kisses. It was like dropping her off at a friend’s house. My wife looked at me and asked, “Was that it? Was that the goodbye?” I have no doubt it will be similar with our son.

I have trouble envisioning it. I have difficulty thinking about the house being so quiet and empty. I had the great privilege of going to school with both my children. For the past eight years, we saw each other in the halls, walked to school or home together, and shared a world. Now, my son’s school world will be apart from mine. Both nests will be empty.

When I went to college, I called home in the evening every Sunday. If my parents wanted more contact, they would leave a message on my new-fangled phone answering machine and I would call back when it suited me. Now, we have text messages, emails, Facebook, Instagram, and the ubiquitous cell phones. Not only can we be in touch, we can be enmeshed.  

We didn’t smother each other when we lived together, so I doubt we will do so now that he is at college. I do have moments when I just want to see his face or hear his voice. That is one reason I take so many pictures. They help. My kids make fun of me that I take screen shots of our video chats. Those screen shots prevent me from being the dad who calls too much. They are mementos of the calls that help me to breathe and relax and know that it will be all right.

Frankly, I am choked up as I write this now. What a stupid idea! Let’s visit the big goodbye ahead of time so I can feel it twice! Super! Perhaps this can be rehearsal. Perhaps this will help me not be a total mess as we pull away from the dorm and campus and start the long drive home.

Just to make things interesting, my older child is coming home to join us on the goodbye journey. She will fly out immediately after we return from dropping off her brother. Great! Two goodbyes. While I am used to living apart from her, I still miss her all the time. She and I have trouble ending video chats. They go on and on. We run out of things to say, but neither of us can end the conversation. My son is not so sentimental. Now. My daughter’s move to college changed our relationship. My son’s departure will no doubt transform ours, too. The thing is, I liked our relationship before.

I hope that, someday, they live a little bit closer. I hope that, someday, it will take less than five or six hours to see them in person. But I know that the relationship we shared before college is gone. I am going to have to make my peace with the new situation and find a way for it to be much more than an empty nest.

So this separation is training for all of us. It is a chance for both of my kids to establish their independence far enough away from their folks that, even with the use of the electronic tethers, they make their own lives.

And it is a chance for their father to learn he can do the same.

Summer is Waning

August always creates a little panic in the Hirsch household. August means that school is no longer a distant concern. August means that all of those school tasks we have been putting off now require our attention. August means that our days of flexible and varied schedules are going to be replaced with the 5am wake up and the 7 to 4 school day. Summer is waning.

As the days start to shorten again and I find that my evening walks are in the dark, I am pulled in two directions. I love my summers. They are one of the great perks of being a teacher. I have a list of things I could not or did not get done during the school year and I get through many of those throughout the summer. I review my school plans, too. I go over all the student feedback, evaluate my lessons and calendar, look at those many lists of  things I have been meaning to incorporate in my teaching, and read, read, read, read, read! Summer is a very productive time.

Sometimes at the end of July or the beginning of August, our assistant principal will open the electronic grade book and let us peek at our class lists in progress. The lists are not done. They are not finalized. It doesn’t matter. Now, instead of just school waiting for me at the end of August, specific students are in my future. This changes everything!

While I am still enjoying my summer flexibility, I am now thinking about the students with whom I will spend most of the year. Most of the students on my teaching load are freshmen, so I don’t know them at all. I recognize some names; some are neighbors, and a few I have met in other contexts. But they are strangers. My seniors, on the other hand, are not. I want to run outside, down the block, and knock on doors and say, “We are sharing class this year!” or “We are back together!” They don’t see their schedules for another week or two, so I can’t do that. Yes, there are names that elicit less enthusiasm, too, but that is rare. In my thirty plus years in the classroom, I can count on one hand the number of students I really did not rejoice in teaching. And students, like all people, grow and change. No student should be stuck with last year’s (or two years ago’s) baggage. At the beginning of school, everyone deserves a fresh start and a clean slate. I roll out the red carpet for every student with whom I work.

Getting ready for all these fresh faces takes a ton of work! August, and the appearance of these draft lists, means that I need to start getting ready – beyond writing lesson plans, ordering books, and reading articles. I need to create role lists. I need to make nameplates. I need to share documents on Google drive and create classes in turnitin.com. I need to set the table and put food on it! Hungry kids will be here soon!

I start making little forays into the building. I get my rooms ready. I print out materials and make a few copies. I sent kids welcome emails. I see my colleagues and catch up. I realize how vital my school community is and how it energizes and renews me. And despite my love of summer, how much I have missed it.

In two weeks, I will greet my new freshmen and their families. I can barely wait. I will savor the waning days of free summer, but now my focus is on fall. Time to go back to class!