This is a strange time of year, isn’t it?
It’s a collection of lasts: last bus ride (for a while), last breakfast sandwich, last classes, last essays, and the last chance to study for the last exam. It’s also the last chance to connect with some of the young people I’ve worked alongside for 4 to 8 months – struggling together in the cause. It’s almost guaranteed that I won’t see many or most of them ever again, and there’s a lot of finality in that realization. So imagine my surprise earlier this week when one of my classmates said “I hope you’re in one of my other classes – you’re cool!” Today is the last school day – I have a quiz to write – I’m going to start my final studying as soon as I’m finished here. Then I have one week to finish a take-home exam and prepare for my one formal final exam.
Some of the pressure is off, but I have to guard against stepping back from the tension too soon. That’s what most of the students are doing here today. It’s Bermuda Shorts Day – a day, so they say, of revelry and relaxation, and circumstance. I was asked on Wednesday if I would be taking part: “Nah,” I said, “I’ll be watching, though – from a safe distance.”
That’s the wont of an old fart, back in school.