I handed in my resignation
The date was Friday, January 7, 2022
A single sheet of white paper printed on the copy machine in the teachers lounge
A single piece of paper
Simple questions
Why are you resigning?
Answer: retirement
Not much more than that
All I needed to do was hand it to my immediate supervisor
So I did
The date was Friday, January 7, 2022
A single sheet of white paper printed on the copy machine in the teachers lounge
A single piece of paper
Simple questions
Why are you resigning?
Answer: retirement
Not much more than that
All I needed to do was hand it to my immediate supervisor
So I did
It shouldn't have been difficult
Just extend a hand with the paper in it
Extend it toward the principal
Smile
Release the page when the principal has it in his grasp
Should be easy
Should be easy
Should be easy
NOT that easy
I guess I hadn't envisioned the simple event
Thought it was simple enough
The principal happens to enter the room for another reason, and I quickly decide to "rip off the bandaid"
I matter-of-factly pick up the paper and hand it in his direction
He says he doesn't want it
I say I don't really want to give it to him
Something crashes inside of me and rushes upwards into my eyes
That lump suddenly appears in the throat
The eyes expand
The tear ducts threaten to open like a spillway
He reacts as he should
I shuffle him out of the room and continue teaching the class
Slowly at first
The lump is still there
Slow to shrink
A hitch is in the voice
Keep teaching
At lunch, someone asks how things are going
I can't talk
I don't want to talk about it
I would, but I can't without breaking
I force myself to tell others about it
The more I talk, the better it will get
Right?
Right?
Until I get home and tell my wife, "I handed him my retirement paper, today"
And the emotion burns in my face
Can't look her in the eyes
I break
Again
We embrace
She didn't expect that reaction from me
Hadn't thought I would react that way
Neither had I, I say
It will not be the last time
A 32-year career
Ended with a single piece of white paper
A single sheet of white paper printed on the copy machine in the teachers lounge
The date was Friday, January 7, 2022
The day I handed in my resignation
Just extend a hand with the paper in it
Extend it toward the principal
Smile
Release the page when the principal has it in his grasp
Should be easy
Should be easy
Should be easy
NOT that easy
I guess I hadn't envisioned the simple event
Thought it was simple enough
The principal happens to enter the room for another reason, and I quickly decide to "rip off the bandaid"
I matter-of-factly pick up the paper and hand it in his direction
He says he doesn't want it
I say I don't really want to give it to him
Something crashes inside of me and rushes upwards into my eyes
That lump suddenly appears in the throat
The eyes expand
The tear ducts threaten to open like a spillway
He reacts as he should
I shuffle him out of the room and continue teaching the class
Slowly at first
The lump is still there
Slow to shrink
A hitch is in the voice
Keep teaching
At lunch, someone asks how things are going
I can't talk
I don't want to talk about it
I would, but I can't without breaking
I force myself to tell others about it
The more I talk, the better it will get
Right?
Right?
Until I get home and tell my wife, "I handed him my retirement paper, today"
And the emotion burns in my face
Can't look her in the eyes
I break
Again
We embrace
She didn't expect that reaction from me
Hadn't thought I would react that way
Neither had I, I say
It will not be the last time
A 32-year career
Ended with a single piece of white paper
A single sheet of white paper printed on the copy machine in the teachers lounge
The date was Friday, January 7, 2022
The day I handed in my resignation
