Regina del Rosario reflects on her teaching career and retirement.
The last day of school is never a kumbaya moment of circle time then give hugs all around. Kids await the digital clock to turn 2:50 and dash out the door as they launching into their summer. My endless summer starts now.
After 35 years of teaching, I have no more bells to race against, no more personal stories to listen to nor incessant questions to answer. We could use the metaphor of a string for each connection we make at work. A single strand represents each relation that we nurtured and chose to keep.
These connections then at some workplaces would be just a piece of thread, a cotton string, or even a segment of twine. But for an elementary school teacher, retirement means cutting off a whole steel cable of connections—imagine all the faces that I won’t see again and the voices that echoed my name a hundred times. Will the silence at home be deafening?
I thought I was only going to teach for five years; then one summer led to the next back-to-school night, and so on, and so on. And now the journey is over. Will I constantly try to find replacements for the laughter, the ahas, and wholesome innocence of children? Kids asked me why am I retiring?
