Making the Move

In January, I made the tough decision to find a new "principal home" for the 2020-2021 school year.

There are 1,000 reasons for this decision. Some I can share here, and others...well, those reasons don't need to be publicly displayed. But for me, in my gut, I realized it was time for a change.

For the last year, I have had some pretty low moments. It has not been professionally easy, to say the least. Not that any job ever is. I'm not naive. I absolutely recognize that the "grass isn't always greener." Every where, every place, every system has their own issues to work through.

That being said, this year felt different. I wasn't fulfilled. I wasn't blogging. I wasn't on Twitter. I wasn't pouring over readings/blogs to learn and grow. I questioned my calling. My purpose. Should I even be in education anymore? I even looked up other vocations, such as driving truck.

At the end of the day, a wise mentor once said to me "Sometimes, you need to go to grow." 

So, I began my search. I wasn't expecting to find a perfect fit right away, and I certainly had no idea what would happen to the world a short time later.

But there it was. The stars aligned. Connections were made. There was a lot of reflection, questions, conversations, and prayer. And in February, I made the commitment to move to the New Berlin school district. Starting July 1, I will be the new principal of Ronald Reagan Elementary School.

At the time, there was this overwhelming sense of relief. There was also excitement--dreaming of what could be. Then, the anxiety/dread crept in. Oh gosh...now I need to tell my current staff!! What will that be like? How will it change our last trimester together? What will the parents think? How will my students react?

In late February, I told my staff. I didn't think I would cry, but alas, I was a blubbering mess. Again, when done, a huge weight was off of my shoulders. I had huge plans for our last trimester. I was determined to set us up for success for whomever would take my place. 

Enter March 13th. The day our world "stopped" in Wisconsin. COVID-19 caused our state to shut down for the remainder of the year. We didn't know it would be our last day together. I didn't know that the days before would be the last time I would see some of the students in person. All of my plans for our trimester left together were tossed out the window. We pivoted. We worked diligently to stay afloat. We dug deep, and moved forward.

The trimester ticked away, and it felt like in a flash, we were in June. Official goodbyes were about to be under way, and I was scrambling to try to wrap up year-end items to assist in the transition.

I can't quite explain the feeling of having a foot in "both doors." Navigating this kind of change of closing up one school and entering another. Not to mention the fact that all of this is occurring during a global pandemic. Surreal is the only word that seems to fit.

People often ask me, "Would you still have applied elsewhere had you known the shut down was coming?" That's hard to answer. I try not to live in hindsight too much, only for reflection. I am honestly not sure. In my head, the total unknown that we are all facing might have prevented me from taking the leap. That fear of unknown is real. My own anxiety is real. And we are certainly living in a black hole that we cannot see through yet. In my heart, I'd like to think I would have. 

Goodbyes are always hard. But the hardest for me right now is not getting to say goodbye to the students. I don't deal well with non-closure. I feel like everything about this school year has been left unfinished, including my departure. Not saying goodbye to these kids that I adore keeps me up at night. In the meantime, I'm working with my replacement to *hopefully* be able to host a "Popsicles with the Principals" for later this summer. It could be a true transition point of closure. "Goodbye" to me, and "hello" to my replacement. I think we will all need a "restart" for this upcoming year.

One of the other interesting things about a transition like this is who comes out of the "woodwork" to share things with you. In my role, sad to say that people don't typically show up in your office to tell you that you are doing a good job. It can be quite lonely and hard to tell if what you are doing is making a difference or impact. The amount of kind words that have been shared with me in these last few weeks has been humbling. You always *hope* you are making a difference. For me, one of my priorities has always been relationships with kids and families. That has come out loud and clear with the heartfelt messages I have received.

My amazing PTO also left me with this parting gift. I made the mistake of seeing the email while in a meeting, and opening it on the way to my car in the parking lot. Needless to say, I was a sobbing mess, sitting in my car, watching this beautiful gift.

In addition, they sent me a Dropbox file FULL of additional images/videos that they couldn't fit into this video. I also got a beautiful e-card full of the sweetest messages. My heart overflowed with the appreciations that were shared. It truly speaks to the power of appreciation. I wish I would have known how some felt sooner. I wish I would have heard nice things more along the way. Appreciations truly make a difference. I will forever cherish this gift and these kids.

Blessed. In my reflection, I cannot get over how blessed I have been. It was an honor to lead these kids for the last 3 years. It was an honor to watch many of them grow up before my very eyes. It was a gift to learn alongside this community--the good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful moments. At the end of the day, at the end of my time here, I believe that I am a better educator due to my time in Shorewood.

And now, I move on. I move on with the memories, the learning, the relationships, the mentors, and the friends. I am more than I was 3 years ago. I am better. I am ready for new beginnings.

Yours in Learning,

Angela