
Photo by Frank Albrecht on Unsplash
In schools, we are surrounded by endings. They come thick and fast, woven into the rhythm of the year. We say goodbye to students at the end of each term, sometimes for just a few weeks, sometimes forever. Colleagues move on. Some retire. Some take on new roles elsewhere. And some just quietly disappear from our everyday lives.
We’re so used to these transitions that we rarely pause to consider what they actually mean, not just for us, but for those around us and for the system we’re part of. It’s easy to overlook the emotional and psychological impact an ending can have, even when it appears routine. The academic year draws to a close, and within days the hamster wheel begins turning again. We carry on. We’re professionals. But are we really tending to the endings that shape us?
Sometimes we are invited to mark the end with a farewell speech or a leaving gift. There may be a card passed around, perhaps even a gathering in the staffroom with cake and kind words. Occasionally, we are offered the chance to share our reflections in an exit interview. These moments are gestures of care, but they can also feel like rituals we simply go through. In truth, they often only scratch the surface.
If you’ve ever sat through a series of leaving speeches, you may have noticed something unspoken, the way people look at one another, the emotion just beneath the surface. You can almost tell how valued someone was by what is said and how it is said. And when it’s your own turn to leave, it’s hard to know what to expect. We all carry a need to belong, to feel safe, and to be recognised for what we’ve contributed. Endings touch these needs in powerful ways, whether the ending is joyful, sad, conflicted or even a relief.
What we often forget is that endings are opportunities. Not just to celebrate what has been, but to reflect deeply on what it meant. Not just for us, but for those we worked with and those who will come after us. This reflection, when done with care, can become a moment of learning, of growth, of real connection.
A really helpful question I’ve been taught by Tony Latimer is simply: What is it that you need to resolve? If we ask this question at the point of ending, the direction our thoughts take may surprise us. It invites us to look inward, to explore what still needs tending to before we can truly move on.
I’ve found this particularly relevant this year. My own endings at the close of the academic year were quieter than usual. Some words were said, a few gestures made, but as I write this, I realise there’s still something I haven’t fully acknowledged. There’s a chapter I haven’t yet closed. And so, once I finish this piece, I will take the time to do just that, to mark the end in a way that feels meaningful.
Endings matter. Whether we are parting ways with a group of students, leaving a team, or closing a chapter in our career, it is worth asking ourselves how we want to honour the moment. Sometimes we can do this on our own. And sometimes, having someone walk alongside us, a coach, a facilitator, a trusted guide, can help us focus on what really matters.
What is an ending you haven’t yet tended to?
I am a coach. I typically work with teams in education and healthcare to help them find a better flow in their work. Looking at endings is a natural and often overlooked part of this. If you’re curious about the work I do, please do get in touch. I’d love to hear from you.
