What I’ll Miss The Most

spring-409

WHAT I’LL MISS THE MOST
A Graduation Poem by Zoë Woodbridge

4:50 – that magic number
Each day we hear the page echo
through both buildings
telling us it’s time to go.

We grab our lunches, backpacks,
art projects or instruments,
pack them in our cars
and drive back home
only to return the next day.

I’ll miss the drive, to be honest.
There’s nothing quite like rolling through
the shade of trees on Queen Anne
and pulling up

to Amy on her little pink bike,
little boys playing four square,
then turning off the car
no longer hearing Fugazi
or Mewithoutyou or whichever CD
Eli’s blasting that day,
then putting the Camry in park
and walking up the stone path into school.

I think maybe I’ll miss that the most:
that first look up at the porch
while you hear Heart and Soul
being played in the Chesapeake Room sunlight,
that first breath we take
before starting the day.

Or maybe Zoe and Livvie running up to me
“Zoë! Zoë!,” then wrapping their tiny arms
around my legs, the other little kids yelling hi
as they run off to Capture-the-Flag or kickball,

just the general smiles in the morning saying
“We’re so glad to see you.”

And then there’s the talk
and the laughter
rolling through the hallways
all about Jimmy’s Halloween costume
or Billy’s JC excuses.
I’ll miss that, too.

But maybe the one thing
that I’ll really have to work on
living without
is that head turn I do each day
while walking back to the Camry.

I’ve signed out and gathered my poems,
then I turn my head full of brownish hair
and look back
at the Old Building porch, the New Building,
at this school that’s been built
on so much more than dirt and rock.

I take it all in one last time
before heading home.

A big part of me hurts
when I think, when I know
that Friday will be the last time I do
all of these things
in this particular order I have.

I know that of all the places
I’ve ever left
Fairhaven will be the hardest to leave.
But do we really ever leave?

We all come back, either when leaves change
or on this day, to our foundation
to this place that beckons us like a home,
this place we sometimes need to be.

I’ll cry. I know I’ll cry.
And I know that of all the places
I’ve ever missed, somehow,
I’ll miss this one the most.

Similar Posts

A Day at Fairhaven

A Day at Fairhaven

The one thing that makes my job as a staff member at Fairhaven School interesting and challenging is that it offers an ever-changing kaleidoscope of experiences. No day is ever quite the same as the one before, because the infinite potential of human creativity is unfolding before me on a daily basis. I have observed that when students are given the chance to create what they want, many unexpected and rich experiences evolve.

From a Parent’s Eye

From a Parent’s Eye

My son was comparing Fairhaven to the public school he attended until he was eight. “You know,” he said, “when I went to my old school, I was always doing things because someone told me to. I did things to make my teachers happy, or to get someone to like me, or to be like everyone else. At Fairhaven I do things for myself, and I don’t have to worry about what other people think.”

Fair Ball

Fair Ball

Since we first opened our doors, we have spent hundreds of hours playing kickball. This year, however, tension caused by players trash-talking, disagreements about rules, and a general malaise descending on the game threatened its existence. How the players addressed these issues exemplifies problem solving at Sudbury schools, and might concretize how our community functions.

Presence

Perhaps more than any other quality, presence defines Fairhaven’s students. Sitting in the Chesapeake Room on a sunny Saturday in February as our eight potential graduates declared their intentions to seek diplomas, then fielded questions from assembled parents, staff and fellow students, I could not help but notice this shared trait. One young woman is…