The countdown to the end of the year is on. In my office, it’s quite literally on the white board, which displays the dwindling number of teaching days that remain. Today we hit 10. Every morning for the past few weeks, I have walked into the office and panicked just a little bit. It’s not enough time, I think. We have so much more to do. I feel like I’ve only just gotten to know some of these students. I only now understand what will work best. We’ve really only just started. How can we possibly learn enough in just ten more days?

We can’t, of course, and though my tendency is to try to cram in more and more lessons, I know that I need to do the opposite. Slow down, I tell myself. Savour the moments. A few days ago, fellow educator Michelle Haseltine posted, “This school year is quickly coming to an end for so many of us. This post serves as a quick reminder that emotions run high for everyone…high highs and low lows… Saying it out loud to remind myself that feeling all of my feelings is ok. It’s ok to feel more than one thing at a time.” I wrote it down (obviously) because I knew I needed to remember her wisdom.

I tried to use those thoughts this morning, when I realized that today’s goal was going to be “Try not to lose my temper.” What do you mean, you’ve deleted all of the work you did over the past five days because you “changed your mind” about your topic? Yes, that is a comma splice. Yes, I’m sure it is. Yes, we are still going to read for 15 minutes at the start of class. No, you cannot leave class early. You will never randomly be allowed to leave class early. The bell rings; the next class enters; the questions start again. No, you cannot use AI for your essays. Yes, Quillbot counts as AI because it is, in fact, AI – it has “bot” in its name, for pity’s sake. Yes, I have already told you when your summative project is. Yes, it is next week. No, you cannot use AI for it. Yes, I really do think you can do it. Yes, you will have to read every day until the end of the year. No, you cannot leave class early…

At lunchtime, I want to fall into a heap, but there’s a meeting – the final one of the year for this club – and then a parent conference. And another class, another round of ridiculousness brought on, I know, by summer’s imminent arrival. Yes, I really do think you can do this. Yes, you will have to read every day until the end of the year. No, you cannot leave class early…

And yet, as end-of-year excitement swirls through the school, causing chaos, I catch other moments, too: the young woman who sighs deeply when I announce the final essay, then whispers under her breath, “But I really am a better writer now”; the student who is writing her longest piece ever about the day her father learned they would immigrate to Canada; the young man who has started so many classes angry, and who I now know how to cajole into a better mood; the student who tells me they are almost surely going to finish their 15th book before the semester ends. We have grown this year, all of us. We really have. I can feel more than one thing at a time, I remind myself. In fact, I think I have to. Summer looms.