Despite all the times I’ve been salty about R-MC (and despite the grudges I continue to hold against a certain part of FYEC and the stolen Honors House being converted into offices), I’m still half-hesitant about leaving. As graduation draws inevitably closer, I’ve been thinking about the things that study abroad has made me grateful for here. It turns out that, ironically enough, leaving my college for a year is what made me love it more—my amazing friends, my incredible professors, and the acceptably beautiful campus.
And after crying four times during the latter half of the last week of classes—and making some of my professors cry as well—I’ve finally figured out what terrifies me most about the prospect of teaching. It’s not, surprisingly, the fact that I’d have to talk in front of people and grade potentially terrible papers. Rather, it’s the fact that I’d have to deal with “leaves and leaving,” in the words of one of my favorite professors.
It’s just…how do teachers and professors do it, knowing that the students they help and watch blossom will eventually walk out of their life? I mean, at least nowadays there’s email and social media, but I still I feel like I’d become a sobbing mess. Departures are part of the human experience, I guess, but that doesn’t make them any less depressing.