Last evening Gayle and I went to a fifth grade performance of “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown.”  Gayle and I both used to be (note the past tense) SPED tutors at this elementary school, and two of our favorite students were in this play, one of them as the lead, Charlie Brown. 

I left the school in November of 2005 to take my current job, feeling very very guilty about leaving in the middle of the school year; it took a lot of rational thinking to convince myself that, for once, I needed to put my own career and financial needs ahead of the needs of my students.  It was a tough leaving, and to this day I feel rather hollow about having abandoned “my kids.” 

Gayle worked through the school year of ’05-’06, then left to take her own fourth grade classroom in another town.  In the remainder of that school year, Gayle spent a lot of time with the kids who were in last night’s play, and when she was invited to the performance there was no doubt that she wanted to attend.  She also convinced me to come, and we worked it with the SPED teacher, Rachel, that we would be a “special surprise” for the kids at the end of the show.  (Rachel talked up the “special surprise” for a couple of weeks, but the kids never guessed that it would be us.)

Sitting through the performance last night, I realized a couple of things.  First of all, though I had close bonds with the kids who played Charlie Brown and another lead role (we’ll call her “Janet”), I really didn’t know much about the other kids in the play.  Had this been the class of kids who are now 6th graders, or the kids who are now 7th graders, I probably would have been a weepy mess as I reunited with old friends and favorite students.   But the era of Abby at that school is pretty much past; the kids I spent so much time with have moved on, grown up.

I also realized that my self-esteem plummeted the moment that I walked into that school.  Though I was pretty great at my job there, it made me miserable to be the second-class citizen that is known as a “tutor.”  In my current job, I feel valued, respected, incredibly happy, and challenged.  I never dread going to the library the way I did school – I look forward to each day of work with enthusiasm.  Guess I’ve finally found my calling.

And then, after the show, Gayle and I chatted with the kids (hugs all around) and their parents, most especially Janet’s mom.  Janet’s mom is wonderful – sweet and kind and smart – and it felt like a knife through my heart when she told me that things were never as good for Janet at that school as they were when I was working with her.  She told me that Janet made so much progress in the year and a half she was with me, but after I left there just wasn’t anyone to fill the role that I had played in her life, and things were never the same.  I got a bit weepy, and told her how guilty I felt about leaving, and this gracious mom put a hand on my arm, looked me in the eye, and said, “Don’t feel guilty, please – I am SO happy for you, SO happy that you found a job that you love.”

It was a tough night: remembering where I’d been, feeling terrible about having abandoned kids who needed me, and also feeling so very thankful that I have moved on to a job and a role that makes ME happy and fulfilled.  Isn’t that always the challenge in life?  Keeping yourself happy while doing right by others?