One lives in the hope of becoming a memory. - Antonio Porchia A phrase has been playing in my head over and over as I contemplate the end of my time at this school: At the end of it all, what will I be to you? It’s an egotistical way of thinking about it. But as I walk the halls of the school I’ve spent the last 3 tumultuous years teaching in, I can’t help but consider what kind of memory I’m leaving behind. Was I a good teacher? A friend? A mentor? A role model? The haggard, bearded slob in the corner, sprinting from one classroom to the next?
It's a blessing to know that you will be remembered fondly by some of your students. There are others who you impacted that you don't realize. Keep sharing stories, connecting with kids and giving them things to ponder and wrestle with for themselves.
Best of luck in future endeavors. I'll miss catching up during the Friday socials...
This one hits hard. Setting aside the fact that we have worked together, I can say this: let yourself remember the tangible. The most unlikely of kids will, too. When you least expect it, you’ll get a message: “Mr. Crunpley, I need____.” They have away of finding their way back when they need. Your footprint is there. Trust.
It's a blessing to know that you will be remembered fondly by some of your students. There are others who you impacted that you don't realize. Keep sharing stories, connecting with kids and giving them things to ponder and wrestle with for themselves.
Best of luck in future endeavors. I'll miss catching up during the Friday socials...
This one hits hard. Setting aside the fact that we have worked together, I can say this: let yourself remember the tangible. The most unlikely of kids will, too. When you least expect it, you’ll get a message: “Mr. Crunpley, I need____.” They have away of finding their way back when they need. Your footprint is there. Trust.
Your's is as well, thank you.