Julie Barlow looked over her students’ heads to the wall clock behind them. The minute hand clicked forward.
It was the last day of school, the last five minutes to be precise, and Julie was the only one in her fourth-grade class at Hillsdale Progressive Elementary who was watching the clock.
Sixteen nine-year-olds, heads bowed, were finishing up the last of their work: a questionnaire about their summer goals.
Travel, enrichment classes, chess clubs, special workshops—even in summer, they were adding to their résumés. After all, they were in fourth grade and time was passing.
She jumped when the bell buzzed. Watched the children she’d tried to guide and nurture for the last year gather up their iPads, iPhones, and backpacks. They filed by her desk, leaving their questionnaires in her inbox.
The last to leave was Jimmy Marcuse, a quiet boy who had surprised them all by winning the county spelling bee. Spelling wasn’t really emphasized at Hillsdale Progressive. That’s what spell-check was for.
“Looks like you’ll be having a busy summer,” Julie said, glancing at his questionnaire.
“Yes, Ms. Barlow. I leave for space camp next week.”
“Space camp, that sounds exciting.”
“I have a lot of studying to do first. They don’t usually take fourth graders.”
“That is an achievement. Is your family planning a vacation?”
“My parents are taking my brother to look at colleges, so he can decide where to apply for early admission. I’m staying home and taking a digital media workshop while they’re gone.”
“Oh, you don’t want to go see the sights?”
“He already knows where he wants to go. I don’t see why they have to go look at them.”
“There are probably some other great things to see and do.”
He gave her a look so sympathetic that Julie flinched.
“Well, maybe I’ll see you at the pool this summer.”
“We have our own pool. Besides, in August I have soccer boot camp.”
“That sounds fun. What position do you play?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Defense, probably. It’s really hot in August. You get sweaty and there are bugs.”
“True.”
“But Dad says it’s important to have a well-rounded résumé if I want to get into a top school.”
Julie smiled. She wanted to say, But you’re in fourth grade. There’s time—you should be having fun over the summer, but she didn’t. Julie had been just like him at his age, always achieving, always with the future in mind. She was like him now.
She followed him down the hall to the exit, held the door open while he stepped into the sunshine.
“Jimmy.”
He looked back over his shoulder but didn’t slow down.
“Never mind, have a good summer.”
She stood at the door watching as he walked down the sidewalk and got into the front passenger seat of a silver BMW. Watched as the car drove away, Jimmy’s head already bent over his phone or his tablet, school and last year’s teacher forgotten as he planned for the next step toward a brilliant future.
Julie wanted to run after the car and say, There’s more to life. Hard work doesn’t guarantee a perfect future. Spend time with your family; they’re the most important thing in the world.
But who was she to give him that advice? She’d been raised by a single mother and a sometimes uncle.
Her mother had worked her whole life to give Julie a secure future, but Julie hadn’t had the advantages of most of her students, certainly not the same technology at her fingertips. At nine, most of them had more experience in the world than she had.
She’d always wanted to be a teacher, guiding young minds, introducing them to the world of possibilities, and giving them the tools to achieve their dreams.
But had she done anything this year beyond the syllabus? Opened them to any new ideas? Showed them something they couldn’t see without her? At least bring a balance to their lives? She was afraid she knew the answer.
That’s why she’d applied for an educational leave of absence for the following year. She knew if she just had new experiences, a fresh outlook; if she could just broaden her own horizons, learn new methodology, she could make a real difference in their lives. Their whole lives.
But her application had been denied.
And now Julie Barlow was about to do the most reckless thing she’d ever done. Because she had to do something to fulfill her own dream.
She returned to her classroom, opened her desk drawer, and with trembling fingers took out the letter of resignation she’d written the night before.
Her mother would be disappointed. But she would understand. In time.