I was 6 weeks from a new job and I could almost taste the freedom. No more grading. No more announcements. No more bullshit emails from parents about their precious children.
I had been teaching dual credit World History to seniors at the same school for 5 years. They could get college and high school credit for taking my class and then passing the final exam. That meant I had to put up with the snowflakes, the ivy-league bound, and the over-involved parents. I was the last hurdle for the overachievers.
I loved history and I loved talking about history to kids who really cared. And who was I kidding, these weren’t kids. They were young adults. All of them were enrolled or accepted to major universities and since we were 6 weeks from graduation only a select few hadn’t turned 18.
So even though I was so close I couldn’t lay off. I had to push them to get past the final that took place a week and a half before the last day. We were so close. The anticipation was killing them (and me).