"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." - Dr. Seuss

(April 19, 2017. 12:10 - 1:45 PM)

Last day at CCHS this semester. It's a little difficult for two reasons:
1. These kids have a place in my heart and I'll miss them.
2. There isn't much difference from when I first came. Yes, the kids trust me now and ask me questions freely, but they're still struggling and largely disinterested in school.

Today was slower than usual. The warm up problem (graphing a function on a calculator broken into a process of three parts) took the majority of the class period, but R and I finished it in about ten minutes. She's seen it before and has a pretty solid grasp. We chat some and I check on other students (particularly Q and E. E seems upset so I invite her over and she joins us, cheering up a little with some conversation [we did some math, too]. Q's doing well.) while we wait for Ms. S to continue. Books of the Georgia standards for this unit are handed out and explained. The class does a single page. It's coming to the end of the year and everyone (Ms. S and I included) is dragging. It's rough.
R is done- she's finished the requirement for the day and is determined not to do anything more. We talk about her life some. She's sixteen and already renting an apartment. Life is especially hard for some of these kids.
I try to pull her in for a little more math. No luck. Only ten minutes left, though. But I wonder...
"Today is my last day here," I tell R. 
"Really? No, it can't be," she asks, her eyes wide. 
"It is. I have finals and work during this time for my last two weeks in [the city]."
"But you can't leave me."
If you listen closely, you can heart my heart breaking into approximately four thousand pieces as she says this.
"But I can give you my email in case you need help with anything."
She immediately snatches her phone from her purse, unlocks it, and thrusts it into my hands expectantly. As I type my email address, her smiles returns. "You can be my personal tutor!"
I smile back at her. I'll miss her.

Ms. S was so sweet and thankful. She says that I've been able to do more than I think I have, but I'm not sure if she's being kind or genuine. I'll be coming back again regardless. CCHS has laid claim to a piece of my heart.