Two weeks ago, as one of my work-study students was finishing his shift, he came into my office to say goodbye. I looked up and casually said, "See ya," until he reminded me that next week was reading day, marking this as his last day of work. "Oh," I said, the realization hitting me. It was his final day on the job, ever. In a little over two weeks, he would be graduating. This student had been an exceptional employee, always eager to help and polite. The irony was that I had known him since he was two years old. His father, a colleague of mine, is a member of the faculty. Out of nowhere, tears welled up in my eyes, and I was overwhelmed with emotion. My colleague and I had young children when we first met, and now his son the youngest among them, was finally graduating. It marked the end of an era. I apologized for my tears, saying, "I'm sorry, I don't want to embarrass you. I've known you since you were two." I expressed my gratitude for the time we had spent together and conveyed that his parents should be proud.
Last week, I received a card and a bouquet from another work-study student who was also finishing her shift, permanently. She, too, would be graduating in two weeks. This student had worked for me for two and a half years, starting when students could return to campus for in-person classes. Having worked in academia as a support person for 25 years, I've had numerous students come to work for me as office assistants. Rarely have I not enjoyed the time spent with my student workers. Typically, when freshmen approach me seeking a job, I tell them that their four years in college will fly by, and before they know it, they'll be graduating and venturing into the real world.
Some of my former students have stayed in touch, and from a distance, I've watched them flourish and achieve significant milestones like promotions, marriages
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and children. It always warms my heart to witness their success, but it also serves as a reminder that with each passing year, they—and I—grow older. This year, three of my students are graduating, and for some reason, it has left me feeling melancholic. I'm not one to bid farewell easily; I prefer to keep the door open, hoping that someday our paths will cross again. But as I age, I realize that may not always be the case. It's bittersweet. They will move on to achieve great things, while it feels like I remain the same. Come fall, I will welcome a new batch of students, train them, and send them off into the workforce when they, too, graduate.
I am not a faculty member, a dean, an advisor, or an administrator, so at times, it feels like my role as an academic support person has little impact on a student's college experience. It feels like what I do doesn't matter much. Will I have made a difference in a student's life, akin to what an esteemed professor would? I hope so. Many employees like me work behind the scenes on a college campus. I'm certain they, too, form close bonds with their student workers, just as I do. And I'm sure these students' lives have been enriched by these employees.
Yesterday, I received another card, this one from a graduate student from China who is impressively earning her Master's Degree in Data Analytics—a subject I barely comprehend. We only worked together for a year. She wrote in her card, "I feel so lucky to have worked with you for a year...and I'm very grateful that you didn't mind my imperfect spoken English, always listening with curiosity as I shared. It's been a joy working with you to serve our students. I will always cherish these memories.” It made me realize that while I'm not the one with the advanced degree, title, or big salary what I do behind the scenes, how I am, and how I treat my students, matters a great deal to them.
Do you work “behind the scenes”? How does your role make a difference in someone’s life?
Love this!
Very well said and very deserving of the the students recognition. That means you have made a difference in their lives. ❤️