Closure

Silent hallways, rustling papers and erasers scratching, a deep breath, the long exhale, clicking calculator keys. An occasional student says “thank you” or “have a good break”, always in a whisper. I quietly echo my “thanks, you too”, I learned most of their names. Many I will not see again, except in passing across the quad. I will not know if what I sought to teach them will be helpful in the future. Or if my class is remembered with disdain or fondness. Such is the semester’s end. This is a strange closure