Class Dismissed: Lessons from the Last Day of School

The school year has a way of vanishing before we even realize it. In September, the months ahead feel long and full, with summer seeming like a distant dream. But the rhythm of school life picks up quickly. One moment you’re settling into classroom routines, and the next it’s already Christmas. February slows everything down—bitter cold and dark days slow the passage of time to a snail’s pace. But eventually, as the snow begins to melt and spring arrives, the days speed up again. Suddenly, June is here. The final weeks rush by in a blur of exams, field trips, sports days, assemblies, and graduations. 

Then suddenly, it’s the last day of school. 

For teachers, administrators, bus drivers, student assistants and anybody lucky enough to work with students during the school year, the last day of school carries a unique feeling that is hard to explain. It can only be truly understood by those who frequent the halls of a school from September until June. It’s a mixture of pride, exhaustion, relief, and excitement. But for many of us, there is something a little darker wrapped up in the emotions of the last day. 

As we say goodbye to our students who are advancing to another grade level and to colleagues who are moving to other positions or retiring from the profession, the final bell of a school year ends a chapter that will never be read again. Sure, the end of the school year can be exciting, but if we are honest enough with ourselves, we can acknowledge that buried deep down, there can be a sense of loss. At least, that has been my experience.   

So if the last day of school can be difficult for teachers, can we talk for a moment about how it might feel for some students? 

There is no doubt that for many of our students, maybe even the majority of them, the last day of school is a good one. Many students are dreaming about summer camps, summer sports, family vacations, or are just craving a break from the daily routines of the school year.

This is not every student’s experience, however. For some, the last day of school marks the end of their safe and predictable routine, for at least a few months. It can bring on a sense of uncertainty as they lose their daily social circle. Some students lose access to the space where they feel they can be their authentic selves and experience a true sense of  belonging. For others, it’s knowing that the breakfast programs and school lunch programs they have come to depend on for food, will not be available to them again for two whole months. 

While education has changed a lot in recent years, the last day of school looks an awful lot like it did when I was a student. Closing assemblies, slide shows, hugs, farewells, and teacher gifts before the distribution of report cards are the order of the day. 

I have seen one recent trend, however, that I have questioned – entire teaching staffs  wearing matching t-shirts that celebrate the last day. While these t-shirts sometimes have messages that are light-hearted and harmless (teacher vacation mode activated), I wonder if sometimes these messages can be hurtful to students or parents? I once attended a year-end assembly where all the teachers wore shirts that informed the parents that they were now off duty and their kids were no longer their responsibility. 

While I know the shirts were meant to be lighthearted and intended to foster a sense of staff morale and camaraderie, the message unintentionally dismissed the very real challenges many families face during July and August. Further to that, such actions risk undermining the collaborative relationship the school had worked to build with parents during the school year. We can’t work hard to build relationships with student families for ten months, and then blatantly tell parents that those relationships no longer matter on the last day of school, at least until September. 

For some parents, such as those facing financial challenges and other hardships, the summer months may not be a break but a source of stress. Parents of students with exceptional needs often struggle to find spaces where their child can receive the support they need for the summer. Some parents feel unequipped to manage two months of full-time care. Others worry about how they’ll keep their children fed, entertained, and socially engaged. 

We can’t prioritize students’ social-emotional needs for ten months and then on the last day pretend their feelings do not matter.

It’s important for us as educators to ask what message it is we want to send to our students and parents as they walk out the door in June. Are we saying, “We’ll miss you”? Are we telling them that “You matter”? Or are we telling them “You are not my responsibility any longer”?  As a principal, I know the message that I wanted to convey. As educators, it is important that our actions match our values, and we need to hold onto these values until the very last student has made it home on the last day of school. 

We can’t prioritize students’ social-emotional needs for ten months and then on the last day pretend their feelings do not matter. When we celebrate the end of the year, let’s ensure our tone and actions leave space for those who are grieving the loss of a caring, stable environment. There is no harm in acknowledging to students that it is okay to feel sad, as they may miss their teacher or will not see their friends during the summer months. While we all need and deserve a summer break, we cannot lose sight of our core commitment of putting students first. 

Our final day activities can still be fun, but they should also be thoughtful. Let’s remember that for some of our most precious students, the last day of school might not be the best day of the school year–it may very well be the hardest.

Enjoy your summer, teachers! You certainly deserve it, and I know you desperately need it. But maybe next June we should give some thought to how to end our school years a little differently, to ensure that students know they are loved, valued, and will be missed, and the parents know we are rooting for them while we rest up.