Yesterday I said goodbye to the high-school that I’ve worked at for nearly two years. Three days ago, I said goodbye to one of my dear American friends that has been in Madrid with me almost since the beginning. And, tomorrow, I turn 26. So, it’s been an emotionally taxing few days.

My experience teaching at the high-school was more of a unique, enriching experience, than I ever counted on. I distinctly remember thinking before I started teaching that I would really ‘make a difference’ in these kids’ lives. I would help them improve their English, thus helping them in their futures. But, I quickly realized that many of my students came from tough backgrounds, in a low socio-economic neighborhood. Their English level was such that when I would say to them “How was your weekend?” they looked at me blankly, and muttered to their classmates “Qué dijo?” They acted out in the classroom, tossing notes to their friends, chattering loudly, outright disrespecting the other teacher and myself. The bolder, or stupider ones, would say things like “Viva Franco! Viva España!” just to push the boundaries and see what reactions they could get. These are the students I won’t particularly miss, and yet, they tested me in ways I’d never been tested.

Then there are the other students. The ones that showed even a drop of interest in English and American culture. That ones that asked me questions like “What do you think about gun control?”, “What was it like growing up as the youngest?”, and “Can we please have a lesson about Black Lives Matter?” The ones whose faces lit up when I entered the room, with cries of “Angela! How are youuuu?”, and who participated in the activities that I’d prepared. I will miss these students very much.

And finally, there’s the students that fall somewhere in the middle. The ones that were little troublemakers, and yet their floundering attempts to ask me a question in English, and their infectious laughter, redeemed them in some small way. I will miss them, as they too contributed to this experience.

There were many days, especially this school year, when I just couldn’t wait to be done teaching. I was exhausted, emotionally and physically, for a number of reasons. Covid-19 was certainly one of them. I had more than one Covid scare, and the open windows in the classroom during the winter months made for an unpleasant teaching/learning environment. Some days I went to the school running off of four hours of sleep, not sure how I would get through a certain set of classes that day, only to be surprised at how their smiles and enthusiasm gave me a fresh wave of energy. I learned that teaching is mostly about hoping that you make even an incremental difference in a person’s life; that, maybe, you’re the one that gives them the encouragement they needed, who sparks their interest in a particular subject, or country. You might never know if you did that or not, but you can hope. I also learned that teenagers are teenagers no matter what side of the globe you live. Regardless of language, ethnicity, or socio economic status, teenagers still have teenage problems. And for them, in that moment, those problems, or those wants, are the most important things in their lives.

What started out as an almost impulsive decision to move to Madrid and teach English for just one year, has turned into an “I have no idea when I will move back to America and I’m trying to stay in Spain as long as I possibly can” decision. On July 5th, I start working as a Residence Life Leader for an American company that’s sending students to Madrid for a couple weeks; I feel extremely lucky to have gotten this position, because this is very similar to the type of work I would like to continue in the future. That is, in June 2022, when I have completed my Masters in Global Higher Education.

The hardest thing about living in Madrid is the constant ebb and flow of friendships. I have friends spread out across the U.S., and I have friends here in Spain, which means that my heart is constantly in two places at once. As I make life-long friendships here, so another friend leaves to return to the U.S. As one of my Spanish friends would say simply “This is life. La vida.” As I’m about to turn 26, I feel continued happiness with the direction that my life is going, and gratitude for the friendships that make saying goodbye so bittersweet.