Last night, my daughter came up the stairs wearing a sweatshirt I’d never seen before. I didn’t need to ask where she got it.
Her new boyfriend.
I teased her a little, then headed off to work on some drywall. With the dust swirling and the music playing, I couldn’t stop thinking about how quickly things seemed to change. Or—more truthfully—how long it had taken to get to that moment.
Not long ago, she’d sneak into my closet and borrow my sweatshirt for cold mornings by the fire. But now? Now she’s choosing someone else’s. My sweatshirt sits quietly in the closet, forgotten, in a way.
It felt sudden. A dramatic shift. But it wasn’t. It was the slow, quiet work of growing up—bit by bit, day by day, until one day she didn’t need mine anymore.
And it made me think about school. About the end of the year, that always feels like it sneaks up on us.
One day, the bell rings, the room empties, and the quiet settles in. And we’re left wondering when it all changed.
But the truth is, it didn’t change all at once. It changed on all those ordinary days: the tough ones, the breakthrough ones, the days when no one seemed to be paying attention—except they were.
And you were. Helping them grow.
So before the year wraps up, take a moment.
Look at the students—not just their grades, but their growth, and acknowledge it. Applaud it. Be proud of it.
Because they didn’t get there alone. They had you, guiding, challenging, and believing in them when they didn’t yet believe in themselves.
And you should be proud of that.
Because one day, they’ll walk out of your room—wrapped in all they’ve learned—wearing a new sweatshirt you may not recognize, but one you helped them grow into.
