Retirement: The Beautiful, Stressful, Surprising Next Chapter After 35 Years of Teaching Kids

May 15. 2026

I'm 64 years old! Thinking back, I remember when my folks were this age. I would often catch myself thinking "how can they even get out of bed at their age?" Now I am that age and some days the question I ask of myself is eerily similar!

Is 64 old these days? Most of the time I don't think so. Heck, I play trivia on Thursday nights at a local bar with a guy that is 82. A world traveler. His Facebook profile picture is of him doing a handstand against the wall at the gym he works out at. There are days I seem to shuffle and plod as opposed to actually walking. That is not going to keep me from enjoying my remaining years. Probably won't be doing handstands at 82, but I bet I will still cast a fly rod. Hopefully much better than I do now!

Retirement is one of those life transitions people talk about as if it’s a singular emotion — pure heaven or pure anxiety. But after having spent 35 years in public education, I’ve learned over the years that big moments are rarely that simple. Retirement isn’t just one dimensional. There is going to be a whole lotta changes and adjustments. I can't wait!

The first thing that is going to be different is the quiet. Oh, the wonderful quiet. No bells, no constant shrill chatter of adolescent voices in the hallway, no announcements over the intercom by a student volunteer that can't pronounce the simplest of names, and no students interrupting with "can I go to the bathroom" after they have just walked past that very location less than 30 seconds before. No more parent email's asking why their perfect kid is failing and having to explain that's what happens when their kid hasn't turned in 12 of 30 assignments. All that I am going to hear is my beautiful wife's loving voice and the soft clicking of my dog's nails on the hardwood floor.

The days are going to be mine! I can leisurely drink my coffee without concern that it will grow cold sitting on my desk. There will be no stacks of papers waiting to be graded. Administrators? They can go and give a halfhearted evaluation of someone else's teaching skills. I won't have to deal with them any longer. Bitter? not really. Just bothers me that even when they have spent little to no time as a classroom teacher, they got to tell me how I should be teaching an autistic child or a 17-year-old with a 2nd grade reading ability. Oh yeah. The every two year administrative drone about the discovering and instituting the latest and greatest miraculous answer to all of educations problems that require hours and hours of Professional Development meetings only to be tossed out within two years and move on to the next guest speaker that is paid enough to pay the salary for an extra teacher. Asinine.

There’s a deep, almost audible exhale that comes from knowing I've given decades of service to hundreds of students and now get to reclaim my time.

Thanks for reading!