Six years ago, I came to Spain for the first time. It was my first time being out of the country by myself. Many people were unsure how I would do, a month without my parents. I was known for being a homebody. A month came and went, and I knew I had to go back, someway, somehow.
Five year ago, I graduated from college. Most people were applying for internships or jobs, some people got married. Meanwhile, I found a program to teach English in Spain. I was going back to the city that made me fall in love with Spain: Tarragona.
My school was not in the center of Tarragona and it took a little getting used to. But after some time, I loved the school and I loved the students. I came back for a second year. You know how that goes, though.
After my second year, I was going to go to a town near Barcelona, but I didn’t have the right documents and paperwork since I’m a non-EU citizen. For a year, I went back home to the United States.
On my year at home, I worked as a substitute teacher. It was exhausting. I knew I had to get back to Spain. Back when I was in college, one of the teachers had a page with recommendations for what to do post-graduation. I remembered this and decided to apply for a Master’s program in Madrid.
In May 2017, I found out that I was accepted. I was going back to Spain. To Madrid. Now I could see my beloved Real Madrid. Before I left, I was so nervous. Was I making the right decision? I felt guilt at leaving people behind.
I arrived in Madrid at the end of August 2017, early enough to look for an apartment. Luckily, I speak Spanish, so it was easier for me than most people. In September, I began my Master’s program. During the week, I’d teach at a school. On Fridays, I’d have classes 45 minutes outside the city center in Alcalá de Henares.
Now, fast forward to June 2019. I finished the Master’s last June, but continued teaching at my school. Today is my last day at the school.
I thought I was going to be fine, but as soon as I walked into the teacher’s room, two of the kindest teachers started talking to me about my last day. And I started crying. I felt like I pulled myself together, but then I went into the gymnasium for an award’s presentation and everyone started looking at me. I started crying again.
I don’t know how many times I’ve cried today. Each time I walk into the classroom and have to tell the kids it’s my last day, I start to break down. Some of the kids drove me crazy, some of them I love to death. It’s so hard to tell them I won’t be back next year.
I’ve had the students give me cards and posters, write things on the chalkboard about how they’ll miss me. (Also trolling me about the Raptors winning the NBA finals.) Some students started crying, too, making me cry more. I had one girl get up and tell me in English what I meant for the class, which really touched me.
Still, even though I am sad and crying, upset I won’t get to see them anymore, I know it’s my time to go. I want to get a secure and stable job with good pay. There are so many things I miss about the United States. Hopefully, I’ll still continue to travel.
It’s not over for me yet, though. My parents are coming to Madrid this weekend, and we will also travel around southern Spain. Then, I get to see the semi-finals and finals for the Women’s World Cup before setting off a month-long expedition across Spain doing the Camino de Santiago.
So, thank you, Colegio NILE, for giving me a great two years. I am so thankful for my experience here. You guys really have given me another home. Of course, the next time I am in Madrid, I will come to visit! Hasta pronto!
