Recuerdos

Beginnings are scary. Endings are usually sad, but it's what's in the middle that counts the most.

That's one of my favorite movie quotes from one of my favorite movies, Hope Floats, said by Birdie (Sandra Bullock). It's been on my mind a lot lately.

Our school district is going through a lot of changes as we grow to become a two high school system. Next year marks the beginning of many changes for us at NV. One of them is The Move. Our entire school will be moving to a "new" building -- the old AHS. That means packing up all of our earthly educational belongings, cleaning out our rooms and preparing to move. Since I'm going to be on maternity leave during the majority of the packing, I'm trying to get a head start.

Maybe I'm just that sentimental (or maybe it's the pregnancy hormones), but I'm having a bit of a hard time with it.

I've had more than one teary eyed moment during my planning period alone in my classroom just thinking back. I've spent my entire teaching career in one room. It's the empty room that I walked into during the summer of 2002 thinking "Wow. This is it. I'm really a teacher now. What the heck am I getting myself into???" I sat in that chair for the first time looking at the desks that filled it and wondered who would fill them and how in the world would I teach them to speak Spanish. I've never been more intimidated by an empty room in my entire life.

I now see all the things that fill the room -- maps, flags, posters, clothing, travel souvenirs -- and they hold so many memories. The poster from the Sevilla bullring where I saw my first bullright in 2005. The "curtains" made from two Mexican blankets that my dad and my husband hung while I sat with my swollen, blood-clotted foot elevated on a pillow. Soccer scarves. Papel picado. La Virgen de Guadalupe. El Entierro del Conde de Orgaz. Photos from trips to Spain. 70s/80s Day memorabilia. So many memories. The vast majority of them great, happy memories.

The student desks that have held hundreds of adolescent behinds. Some of them who loved Spanish. Some who didn't. Some who are now Spanish majors in college. Some who barely squeaked by, but still have a special place in my heart. A lot of kiddos have passed through that room. Some left their physical mark (in red marker on my floor). Some just left faint whispers in my mind. Some stomped through and simply can't be forgotten.

There are a lot of memories in that room.

And it's hard to pack it all up.