Breaking news in a little school
I remember it so clearly when my sixth-grade teacher quit mid-year.
He had a big announcement to make a couple of months into the new school year. He stood at the podium and had our attention—he always had our attention.
Mr. Herman started working at this place way before I enrolled in preschool. He had seniority and rank.
Learning was serious business in his class, and the clowns dropped the buffoonery when Mr. Herman cut his eyes at them.
Before making his announcement, he stood for a minute as if debating whether to break the news. Then he lifted his chin and gripped the podium.
“I’m leaving… I will no longer be your teacher,” he said.
Our teacher quit just like that
We looked around the classroom at each other. A couple of students dropped their jaws.
A few students sang like churchgoers starting a hymn in Sunday mass, “Awww…”
Then, a kid raised his hand and asked, “Where are you going?”
“I got a job at the post office,” Mr. Herman said. He peered over his glasses for another question.
“Oh, cool!” someone yelled.
“But why?” another kid asked.
“I’m not going to teach anymore,” Mr. Herman said.
He fixated on the back wall as if all his teaching memories played before his eyes—like a lengthy Hollywood movie that had become distressing to watch at some point.
After raising his eyebrows, he loosened his grip on the podium and eased into his chair as if he had just purged his hardened war story.
He clasped his fingers before his lips and watched us return to work, resting his elbows on the solid teacher’s desk.
Pencils scribbling on squeaky desks sounded throughout the room.
We were happy for him
Was I sad? Maybe a little…
His announcement shocked me more than anything, but then waves of excitement rushed over me.
Mr. Herman landed a job at the post office, which seemed like a cool place to work.
He was a mailman now.
Did anyone cry or have a total breakdown because our awesome teacher quit mid-year? The man we trusted to lead us onto the scary middle school years…
Nope.
Did Mr. Herman seem sad?
No… maybe… he hid it behind his stoicism.
We finished our assignment, and later that day, we said ‘goodbye’ to our teacher.
That ended an unforgettable school day for us and a long teaching era for him.
Another one bites the dust
A bright-eyed young lady soon replaced him in our classroom.
She had just graduated from college and resembled fresh-cut green grass. Her long, colorful skirts went with her personality.
Abstract and nice…
But nice won’t cut it in the classroom.
She ran around with her brows furrowed and sweat running down her neck, crying and whimpering down the hallway to the bathroom.
Then she would collapse over Mr. Herman’s old desk, burying her head in her cupped hands.
To her credit—she tried… but didn’t last long.
Then we traveled the world
In no time, our principal became our teacher. She ran the school while teaching our class.
Hardcore.
Just like Mr. Herman, she ran a tight ship—stepping outside the classroom between lessons to snap her fingers and yell at students wandering the halls.
I feared her. Then, I grew to admire her.
Why? We discovered her love for travel. And she had been to every corner of the world, it seemed.
Although I had already traveled outside the US by this age, she introduced me to new places.
Oh, the possibilities!
Of course, Mr. Herman did a fantastic job showing us where history was made on the maps and the globe. But our principal brought all of this to life.
She had walked foreign lands. The relics and souvenirs she brought to class opened our minds.
Pictures of her posing in front of statues and landmarks were much more interesting than the stock photos in our history books.
I yearned for more!
I wanted to see all these places in the flesh, just like her.
Valuable lessons
Not surprisingly, I did run into Mr. Herman at the post office. His new job granted him a new lease on life—and it showed.
He waved and smiled at me from the front desk like I had never seen before.
Seeing him happy made me happy.
“Mr. Herman was my teacher, and now he works at the post office,” I told people.
We students never knew why he left mid-year.
Were parents on his case? Toxic work environment? Tired of teaching? Needed more money?
Maybe he realized that his career path did not go as planned.
Ahhh…
Whatever the reason, I respect his decision and applaud him.
Mr. Herman did not ruin the rest of the school year or my life because he quit teaching mid-year.
Our principal taught me so much about travel and opened my mind.
Hr. Herman taught me to be bold and do what I want in life.
My principal increased my interest in traveling and venturing where I’ve never dreamed of going.
This all happened for a great reason… my teacher quit. In the end, I am thankful it happened this way.
Updated: November 19, 2024
