Yesterday was Pickle’s last day of school as a kindergartener.

The night before, I was folding laundry after the kids were asleep, and I heard her burst into tears. I found her sitting up in her big-kid bed weeping.

Me: Pickle, what’s wrong?
Pickle: *sniff* I don’t want to leave my class! I love my teacher so much!

I am nearly finished Brené Brown‘s book on empathy, shame, leadership, and vulnerability, so I know the best move here is to just give Pickle a hug and sit with her in her sadness. She cried on my shoulder for 15 minutes, then I suggested, “Do you want to write your teacher a letter or draw her a picture?”

She did, and it was adorable. Rainbows and holding hands and the words, “I love you soooooo much!!!” written in crayon.


I really hope Pickle loves school this much for the rest of her career. That’s what I want for every child, for them to love school and be sad when it’s over.

To that end, I gave every effort to end the school year sensitive, caring, and warm, since I know those feelings will be carried by my students the entire summer.

There are two things I do at the end of every school year, both of which are easily replicated by you to finish strong this year.

1. Teacher report card

I blog about this quite a bit, so I’ll be brief: this is a great way to get honest feedback from your students about how your class feels to your students. You’ll likely get some feedback to make some tweaks as you dwell and dream during the student-free time.

At the same time, you will get some warm fuzzies to carry you out the door and affirm that you did something right this year.

If you’d like your own link, click here for teachers, click here for coaches, and click here for admin.

2. End-of-the-year blessing

I support the separation of church and state, and still I recognize the power of ceremony in public school.

Graduation, promotion, signing day, and a field trip to the local theme park are all rights of passage to signal something important.

In old-school Christianity, we called this a bulwark or a Ebenezer.

In Education, we call this a benchmark.

In either case, it’s important for students to feel a moment.

To that end, I try and end the year with my own benchmark/Ebenezer, by giving my students a blessing on their way out the door.

image: On The Line Ministries

Note: This can be super creepy have done poorly. Proceed at your own risk.

Here’s how I did it the last time I had a class:

“In some cultures, when people are leaving to do new things, they are given a blessing or a commission or some encouragement…

Some cultures place hands on the shoulders of the person who’s leaving, but there are too many of you, so I’ll just do this…”

I hold my hands out over them, palms down.

“May you be passionate problem-solvers and curious critics. May you be loyal to your friends, obedient to people in charge, friendly to strangers, and kind to those in need. May you be safe, healthy, loved, and happy, and may you become more of those things every day. May you every day become a better version of yourself.”

Paraphrased from this blog post in 2014

NOTE: I would definitely tweak the “obedient to people in charge” part, now that I’m more skeptical of the inequitable power systems inherent in the school system. Probably add something like, “May you be brave and confident when faced with powerful foes,” or something.

I watched Patricia do a blessing with her class of seniors, and almost all of them bowed their head for some reason. Adolescents are often more clever than we give them credit for, and many can sense when something is important.

Or they grew up in the church and can sense something sacred.


However you end the year, keep in mind one thing:

Our students will carry with them—all summer—how they feel about our classes, so make sure you suck it up and end with something positive.

~Matt Vaudrey

P.S. I’ve been sitting-in full-time as the Assistant Principal at one of my middle schools. I’ve been lingering and shadowing and learning and supporting at the site for a while now, and now that Nadia had her baby, I’ll be taking over her desk until she returns.

More to come.