Blind-sided. Shocked. Blown away. Amazed. Astounded. Knocked for a loop. Dumbfounded. Never saw it coming.
That was me when Leila left my room one Friday afternoon in the early spring of that year. She had applied for a job at another school. Her interview was the next week, but she was pretty confident she'd get the position. She didn't want me to hear it from anyone else. She'd been unhappy in her job for a while now, and this change seemed like what she needed.
Disappointed. Hurt. Angry. Confused.
That was me the more I thought about it. After all those years of waiting, we finally had our own team, and now she was leaving. Why? And just what sort of change was she looking for, anyway? She had applied to teach the exact same thing, but at one of the north county schools.
Silent. Resentful.
That was me whenever I was around Leila after that, which was as little as I could manage and still do my job. "Just give her time," I heard one of our colleagues whisper to her as I gathered my things immediately after adjourning our team meeting, and left the room, head down.
Lost.
Never in my whole career had I been without Wes or Leila on my team. What was I going to do without them?
This sounds like the break-up of a marriage. It sounds like Leila was a silent partner in many ways, praying her way through things (I'm pretty devout, but hey--when I go home, it's not my students I'm praying about!), but not really being honest about the toll it was taking on her.
ReplyDeleteI'm waiting for the end, to see how you resolved this, but know that I'm pulling for you--for hanging in there, when the North Country looks so appealing, on paper. But life has a way of teaching us that our problems follow us wherever we go, in one form or another, until we get them "right."
I'm still reading, following along.
Elizabeth