When I was given a desk in our office, it was already littered with books, handouts, and memorabilia. Rather than throwing anything out, I just made space enough for me to work. On the desk’s shelf, a bottle of face wash from Singapore and a container of grape seed from New Zealand curiously sit next to a pile of pale pink notebooks where students had practiced writing the alphabet last year, when Kat was this desk’s owner.  A hook adorned with a cartoon girl is stuck on the corner of the shelves, and in one drawer, there is a curious set of keys.

It’s as if these items are all breadcrumbs, left by the teachers who have come and gone before me. Their presence reminds me of the past, of our school’s history, written by each person’s experience here. They prompt me to think of the end of July, when I will become yet another person who came and went, and this desk will then lay stagnant until another person comes and sits in this same spot.

I wonder if I will also leave behind something before I leave, continuing the breadcrumb trail that I have stumbled upon. And when the next person takes this desk, perhaps their eyes will wander among the shelves and land on that same grape seed container. Whoever that person is, I hope that they leave behind something from their experience so that this trail may continue.


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