Wednesday, Feb. 09, 2005
Turn over, posted at 5:46 p.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com My department head walked over to me during my planning period, tapped me on my shoulder, and asked to see me in his office. Not a big deal, I didn't think; the school is considering sending me to New Mexico for IB training this summer, and I thought it was about that. (The recurring nightmare of having this journal discovered is usually envisioned as a PA announcement asking me to come down to the office immediately.)But he sits me down. Uh-oh.
"We're moving to Minnesota."
Woah. It was like a blow to the stomach and it immediately made me sad. He's been here for three years, less than me, and has been an excellent department head despite working through monumental difficulties at school. He's also been a good friend, someone who I can easily grab an Orioles game with.
His wife got offered a great job there, and they're moving in July. I'm upset about it. One of the greatest things about teaching at my school is the feeling that the folks in our department are really working together and are committed to the school. This is the second department head I've seen leave in two years, and I think we might lose at least a couple other teachers.
As has often happened in the last couple of years, I've been having identity crises when it comes to living in Baltimore. The city remains something of a lonely place for me, despite good friends. More and more, I don't know why I choose to live so far away from my family. Striking out on my own has been a great thing for me, and I love my job, but today's news was something that brought me one degree more lonely, let me know that there's one more person who is not in the struggle with me anymore.
This guy is a good friend, but he's also something of a teaching idol for me. He has National Board certification, he seems to have great conversations with his students and expects great things from them. After teaching in Nashville, Chicago, and London, I thought I'd have his wealth of knowledge helping to guide my still-fledgling career for a while still. He's someone I would call into my room to watch me teach something, and he'd give me typed feedback the next hour in my mailbox. I loved that, and trusted him. In some ways, even though he's just eight years my senior, I viewed him as a father figure; his befuddled grumpiness and blunt honesty was something I really valued here. This is a blow.
Our conversation ended with me saying, "Congratulations... I guess." I didn't mean to say the "I guess," but it slipped out under my breath.
He replied, "Thank you... for both parts of that sentence."
Dang, this sucks.