Senior Year @ NPHS

 In 2006 I got placed at NPHS to do my student teaching - a year of going to the high school from 7-3, then my own university classes from 5-8, and school grading and planning followed by academic homework afterward. It was a horrible set up with the professors proudly claiming that it weeds out the weak and incapable. I was living in Fox at the time, a 34 minute commute if the roads are good and this is Alaska so the roads are rarely good. I was mad about getting placed at the furtherest possible school, wasting gas while not getting paid, and the extra hours in a vehicle in a schedule already designed to make me fail. 

It was the biggest blessing possible.

Under the guidance of the best mentor teachers, I quickly made NPHS my professional home. The education world was a different place than today. It took four years of subbing before getting my own classroom - whereas today we are hiring non certified teachers to just fill positions - and I made my professional career two doors down from my student teaching room at NPHS.

In teaching it's easy to go from "I'm all in" enthusiasm to  "why" tears! I've made this transition many times from student teaching days to Dec 2nd 2022!

The date of my last day has felt like the only thing that I can control in this prolonged process. So when our departure date was moved into the new year, I decided to stick with my original day so I could maintain some level of control in a moment when I feel completely out of control. Looking back a little over a week later I'm really glad I made this hard decision. Easing out of the semester - and a career - has felt much easier than the alternative. I'm still grading and lesson planning and connecting with kids while still having one step out the door. No bandaid ripping. 

"Little White Lies" Spirit Day

On Dec 2nd my time in that classroom came to a dramatic, rewarding, hug and tear filled end. I listened to some Hamilton on my now longer than normal commute from Chena Ridge. 

Specifically I belted out "One Last Time." 

   

I walked into NPHS with very few lesson plans for the day, 190 memos to students with well wishes and graduation congratulations, waterproof mascara, and acute senses for each detail walking in. The day was an exhausting marathon. Dr. Bridget Weiss, who hired me from sub to classroom teacher, use to talk of "filling your bucket," and this last day was a big ol' bucket fillin' kind of day.

I left school with a box full of sincere departing words from students. They're so personal for me I don't feel right posting them. I was told early in my career to have a "Days I Want to Quit" file. I was told to put every sincere note, comment, or drawing from kids into that file and rely on it on the challenging days - there have been many days where cracking that file open has saved my career. I meticulously packed up that file for storage weeks ago, but will have dozens more to add. The new name on that file is "Reminder Why What I Did Mattered" which might transition into "Why I Want to Return." 

The "file" prior to today's additions 💌

The best parts of teaching happen in the seemingly inconsequential moments: the hangouts after the bell, the shoutouts in the hallways, the lesson plan derailed by a real question, or the actually hilarious comment from a  student who brings tensions back down to zero. Every year, my all time favourite moment, is right after students turn their tassels at graduation and are released from their last school function. Before they can get to the arms of their families and the flashes of cameras, they walk through a gauntlet of teachers and staff. We stand and clap, and wait for high-fives and hugs and I, predictably, cry. It feels like such an honour to have them look you in the eye in that particular moment of their lives, as they transition from high school to whatever waits. 

A combination of NPHS Grad & my M.Ed regalia, it's my turn to graduate! Again.

With the foresight and brilliance of the people I work with, today I got that moment. I was the graduate. I got to look people in the eye, receive high-fives and hugs, and transition into whatever waits. 

An announcement for "Operation Ciao" came over the intercom and students and staff filed into the hallway. I heard "chow" and was now processing "ciao" and, just like in the movies when the music changes, everything slowed down. I was guided into the hallway where the entirety of North Pole High School were lining the hallway, clapping, cheering, and making eye contact just like at Graduation. I was about three feet from my room when I just started sobbing. My head swiveled to both sides of the hallway wanting to make sure I saw every student and every adult. I was handed tissues and hugs and more letters and at the end of hundreds of people, and towards the door I timidly walked into 16 years ago to meet my mentor teachers, was a simple sign reading "We Will Miss You Ms. Snider." I remember doubling over for a minute to catch my breath as they encouraged me to run through it. Two Faced Waterproof mascara for the win. No idea how my face didn't reflect my insides - an absolute wreck.        

As any teacher knows, the last two weeks of the semester are, well, nutso. I have a bit of teacher guilt as The Cubs fight for survival until Christmas Break. I'm swamped in last minute "is this enough to pass" late work. I've typed and redone lesson plans and online finals for my two week absence. It's a good transition into the inevitable permanent absence. I'm not ready for this to be the end but I wasn't ready for Star Trek TNG to end either when they released their final episode, "All Good Things..."

Mascara win! I've been with students, and crying, from about 6:30a - 5p.

One thing left to do in my classroom is reflect

...and grade finals

16 years is a lot to reflect on. Thank you NPHS - I will always feel like a Patriot