"Pucha, Miss!"

On Monday, November 24th, I went to Liceo de Niñas for the last time to say goodbye to my students. My last week of teaching had not been what I expected, because it had not been at all. I was out of school for the entire last week because the teachers were on another strike, this time protesting until they achieved cost-of-living increases to their salaries. So, although I can't complain about a week of vacation, it was a bit unsettling to know that I would not be able to do any of the farewell activities with my classes, say goodbye to certain favorite students, or achieve any real closure over my teaching experience. Instead, I spent the week plaza lounging with the other volunteers, packing up my room and bonding with the fam. It was nice to have all the extra free time, since I was starting to feel a little anxious as I thought about spending three months on the road and putting an end to my experience with my family in Chillan. Saying goodbye in general was very difficult, because while I am coming back to Chillan, forever from now on I will be only a visitor, not a resident. It feels like my city, but it is not. I will no longer spend endless hours watching tv with Felipe, eating onces with Ema, chatting with Zuni while she irons.

I hadn't really even carefully considered what saying goodbye to my students would mean. From my experiences with my students in AmeriCorps, I knew I would remember some of these kids forever without ever seeing them again, wonder what they are up to and what they have become without ever knowing the answers. Moving on from anything can be so painful, and while my experiences teaching here have not been at all what I expected, or even an activity I genuinely enjoyed doing, there is no doubt that I have grown to love my students and will miss seeing them. I will miss Pauley marching into my class and yelling, "Hello Miss! How are you?" I will miss seeing Izzy in the street and having an awkward English/Spanish conversation. I will miss Loreto never doing her work and falling asleep at her desk or on the floor. I will miss Nicki saying "I love you!" and Debi, Dee Dee and Prissy always hovering around my desk, asking me questions about the United States. I will miss Carolina saying, "Miss, medio hambre," and complaining about her pololo. I will miss Carla and Tamara begging me for magazines and the chance to straighten my hair. I will miss Anasazi bringing me flowers every day from her garden. I will miss Angelica always helping me find food when my bloodsugar unexpectedly got low. I will miss Fabi always trying to do the best work just to please me. I will miss Sophie asking, "Miss, what do you say?" and calling my coteacher an asshole. I will miss Nuhad giving me a guilty smile when I caught her not paying attention. I will miss Nicki always being ready to help me communicate and understand the school rules. I will miss the noise of Gabby's besitos. I will miss the sweetness of Camila and Izzy. I will miss Dani and Nyie and Javi, my star students in class and in debate. I will miss Jenny's crazy hair and funny uses of American slang. I will miss the looks on all of their faces when they don't understand what I am saying. I will miss the chanting, the cheering during games, the competitive streak of all my students. I will miss their besitos and hugs. I will miss the simple adoration I received just because I was their teacher from the United States. For all of these things, the struggles with my coteacher, the schedule, the strikes, the discipline, my curriculum, and my own personal failures were all worth it. These students taught me so much about Chile, about teaching, about myself. As I told every one of my classes, my experiences here have been beautiful, I have learned so much, and you are all a part of that. I will remember my time at Liceo de Niñas forever.

I hadn't anticipated the emotion I would feel bidding my students farewell. The first time with my first class, the freshmen, a precious class so young and sweet and innocent and eager to please and try to learn and speak English, I totally lost my composure and started crying, a pattern I couldn't help but repeat in my other classes. My sophomores begged me to come back in two years for their graduation. My naughty class of sophomores begged me to send magazines from the US. I took pictures of my classes and students and kicked myself for not doing so earlier, since many of my favorite students were missing. Another ending. On one hand, it was exciting to be embarking on a new adventure as a backpacker in South America. But I was mourning the loss of being the Miss to these precious girls.

As I said goodbye to my last class, my favorite class, the sophomores that I had workshop with, several of them followed me down the hallway as I left, and we stopped at the top of the stairs and said goodbye again. I was crying, and Loreto kept looking at me, saying "Pucha Miss!" and turning away with tears in her eyes. This, of course, only made me cry harder. I couldn't express everything I wanted to my girls, to tell them how beautiful and intelligent they are and how they all touched my life by being sweet and loving me unconditionally even in the moments when I was the worst teacher. But I think they knew what I was feeling. I hope they did.

My Primero C section 1 freshmen.

My Primero C section 2 freshmen.
My naughtiest class, Segundo E, the girls that made me dread teaching but in the end became one of the groups I most looked forward to seeing and spending time with.
My favorite sophomore class, Segundo B, sections one and two:

Me with some of my faves, Dee Dee, Debi, Nyie and Javi.
Thanks for a great year, girls! I didn't expect to love teaching in an all-girls school, but my students proved me wrong. Maybe I won't miss teaching, but I will miss my students.