Staying in touch

I’ve struggled to stay in touch with people for as long as I can remember. Much of this has to do with my upbringing. When I was young, we didn’t have many family friends or close relatives. My immediate family and I lived in a bubble. The bubble would expand every now and then but remained largely unchanged over the course of my childhood and adolescence.

My inherited tendency to not keep relationships alive has transferred to my life as a teacher. Through the years, I haven’t kept in touch with former students as much as I could have. So many outstanding kids have gotten lost to time. Considering how long I’ve been teaching, this is disheartening.

All of this became clear last school year when a couple of my former students made it a priority to keep in contact with me. They were still in the building (they hadn’t graduated), and I don’t think they did it on purpose, but we still managed to have ongoing relations in ways I never have before. We went beyond the casual hello in the hallway; we laughed and discussed everything and nothing at the same time. They kept me grounded and primed me to be the best teacher I could be.

To these students, staying in touch meant informal chats in a comfy classroom. To me, it meant much more. Through our check-ins, these students showed me the value of staying in touch. And since I don’t have much experience with it, they also showed me what it could look like.

A student-teacher relationship is sacred because of our frequent interactions, the space we co-inhabit each day, and the ongoing need to learn from one another. When a young person is no longer my student, our relationship loses the gravity that drew us together. Thanks to a few students, however, I realized that it doesn’t have to be this way. I now believe that meaningful relations can indeed exist after June.

As this school year unfolds, I know I can’t keep in touch with all my former students, but at least now I know it’s possible, how it feels, and what form it can take. This challenges my longtime inability to keep loved ones close, which feels like a personal and professional breakthrough.

bp