Leaving my school was even harder than I thought it was going to be, especially when first graders look up at you with their big eyes and ask, “
Seño, ¿porque te vas?” To them it is completely incomprehensible that my life should be anywhere else but Málaga and include anything but teaching them. It didn’t help that my contract finished a few weeks before the school year and before any end of the year festivities. The whole situation makes no sense to six year olds. Why would any of your teachers just up and move to a whole different country?
But in spite of the confusion the last few days of school were filled with games, hugs, gifts, cards, and some of my favorite
dibujos ever. My amazing bilingual coordinator and coworkers had every single one of my students make a card and/or a drawing for me, and they put them all together in a beautiful book. Looking through it makes my heart melt.
One of the last lessons I drew a map of the U.S. and showed them where I'm from, which is why California and my home town of Corona are so astutely noted.
Apparently I'm going home via a blimp, and I may also be French.
I must have missed the teacher-student dress alike day
Apparently I live in a castle. I sure would like to know where it is.
So proud that she remembered a vs. an. (I'll let the "a '
hasta luego'" slide; silent consonants complicate such rules). And I couldn't have put it better myself.
Hasta pronto, mis alumnos.
No comments:
Post a Comment