34. Perhaps I will be a 'teacher' for the rest of my life

Hello. I am a mid-career elementary school teacher.
I am in my late thirties.

I went to see the sports day at my previous school.
It was the final sports day for the children I used to be the homeroom teacher for.
I was wondering if it was appropriate for an outsider to go, but...

Since some of the children I currently teach have relatives there,
or children who attend the same extracurricular activities,
or when I run into them in town,

"Pringles, please come see our final sports day!"
I had been receiving passionate messages like that recently, so although I was hesitant, I went to watch from the morning.
(I contacted the junior colleague who is in charge of physical education, and they welcomed me warmly. Much appreciated.)

They have grown.

When I arrived at the school grounds, the children found me and called out to me.

The children,

are big.
Some have started their voice change.
Some have faces that have become much more mature.
Wait, have you learned to use polite language?

"I am the team leader for Class ◯."
"I drew that colored flag."
"I was the anchor for the relay for the first time."

They were so lively, and it made me very happy.
I'm sure everyone is having a fulfilling time.

Actually, except for when I was a new teacher,

I have always been the homeroom teacher for the children I taught
when they were in the sixth grade.
It was always me and my colleagues who saw them off at the graduation ceremony.

The children I went to see today,
personally, we were on the same wavelength (or so I think),so I had a vague feeling that I would be their homeroom teacher when they graduated.

Around this spring, just after I transferred,
"I want to have a sports day with those kids~"
"I promised those kids I'd ride the roller coaster with them on the school trip~"

There were nights when I would remember things like that. (Though, naturally, that doesn't happen anymore.)

However, seeing them today and talking to them,
I felt from the bottom of my heart that this was for the best.

Both the sixth-grade homeroom teacher team and the school as a whole
have established them as leaders and guided them,
and I felt that they, too, were growing significantly in response.

After all, 'there is no one who is indispensable' and 'if someone leaves, someone else will fill the void.'

It makes me want to cry, please stop.

The sixth graders' performance, which I had been looking forward to, began.

They entered to a medley of songs from the performances of the first through fifth graders, a tradition at my beloved former school. Running barefoot with all their might. Memories of them came flooding back.

Around me, parents were already wiping away tears.
Six years is a long time, isn't it? They have grown so much.

Thinking about things like that,the first wave of emotion hits me hard.

It seems they made original T-shirts this year.
They probably designed the illustrations on Canva, printed them out individually, and ironed them on.

I made eye contact with a boy I had spent a lot of time with when I was his homeroom teacher. He gave a quick nod. My gaze shifted to his T-shirt.
On his chest, there was a huge version of my original characterdisplayed.

Why are you still cherishing a character from two years ago?
Aren't you embarrassed to have it drawn so big?

Various thoughts crossed my mind, but thenthe second wave of emotion hit, and the tears flowed.

The performance moves into its middle to final stages.

The senior on the podium, my older-brother-like teacher, watches them with an occasional smile.

The junior running to assist must have encountered some trouble, as they quietly relay something to the children. But they support them as unobtrusively as possible, praying for their success.

The head teacher watching from the entrance gate is mouthing words like 'Do your best,' 'Go,' and 'Stand up.'

There must be a story behind the scenes.
Seeing the wonderful performance right in front of me, I can feel how much thought, movement, and effort went into preparing for this day.
It wasn't just the sports day practice; it surely started back in April.

Thinking about it makes me so emotional, anda third wave of emotion hit me hard.

Seriously, it's just too intense.
It makes me want to cry, please stop. It's the best.Everyone on this field is the best.

I am a 'teacher' for life.

During the sports day, many people called out to me.
Not just the sixth-grade children,

their parents.
Middle and high school students who are former pupils of mine.
Even former pupils who are already adults.
Parents from last year or the year before.

I am no longer a teacher at this school, but everyone says it.
'Teacher.'

It seems I will be a 'teacher' for the rest of my life.
Even if I quit this job in the future.

'Teacher, I joined the XX club in middle school.'
'Teacher, I'm working at such-and-such place now.'
'Teacher, because of you, I'm doing ekiden in middle school.'
'Teacher, come be a teacher at XX Middle School.'
'I saw you pedaling your bike like crazy the other day, looking all flustered.'
'Sightings of you are being shared in our LINE group.'
'Teacher, let's go out for a drink.'
'I bought and read your book, teacher.'
'I sometimes remember that time your swimsuit ripped while swimming, teacher.'

It seems I will be a 'teacher' for the rest of my life.

As a teacher, I want to live a cool life.
It was a Saturday filled with energy.

I am grateful to all the colleagues and children I met today.
It really is a good job, truly.

However, the children I am currently homeroom teacher for
and my current workplace are also important.
I am still an active teacher.

Tonight, I will indulge in the past a little, and then I will do my best for the children right in front of me 'now'.Alright, I really want to update my personal best every year, in the present.

Let's do my best again.

Thank you for reading.
If you'd like, please leave a like or a comment☆