A Call for Better Offboarding

The end-of-year season in an international school is a unique psychological phenomenon. While colleagues in "stationary" domestic systems might be looking forward to a summer of rest, the international educator often finds themselves in a state of profound liminality, the "in-between." 

You are physically present in one country, yet your digital footprint, your logistics, and your heart are already halfway across the globe. It is a period defined by a foot in two worlds, and the emotional and cognitive load is, quite frankly, immense.

The Foot in Two Worlds

The most jarring aspect of this transition is the dual existence you must maintain. On one hand, you are trying to keep your professional integrity. You want to manage the expectations of your current leadership, complete your reporting, and fulfill every requirement of your contract. On the other hand, you are receiving emails from your new school: onboarding portals, visa applications, housing surveys, and "meet the team" Zoom calls.

Your brain is in constant conflict. You want to set your current school up for success because you care about your students and colleagues, yet you are acutely aware that you have "less skin in the game." You are designing systems or curriculum maps that you will never see implemented. You are planting trees whose shade you will never sit in. This creates a strange sense of detachment that wars with your desire to be a "good" professional.

The Weight of Handover

Amidst this, there is the person taking over your role. You want to be their greatest ally. You spend hours organizing folders, writing detailed handover notes, and explaining the "unwritten rules" of the community. You want them to thrive, yet there is a quiet, exhausting voice in the back of your head that whispers, “I don’t want to have to deal with this anymore.” 

When a crisis arises, a student behavioral issue, a complex parent email, or a sudden change in the Program of Inquiry (POI), your instinct to advocate and fight for change is suddenly met by a new, pragmatically cynical thought: Is this battle worth it if I’m leaving in three weeks? You catch yourself mid-argument and realize that your influence is waning, and your energy is better spent elsewhere. 

Finding the patience to remain "present" when your life is being packed into cardboard boxes is a Herculean task.

The Logistics of a Life in Boxes

While you are trying to lead a "Step-Up" day or a final assembly, you are also mentally calculating the volume of your air shipment. You are navigating the nuances of a new country’s regulations, figuring out how to open a bank account in a place you’ve never visited, or understanding the tax laws of your new abode.

The physical toll of packing up a life is often underestimated. Every item you wrap in bubble wrap is a memory of your time in this host country. You are dismantling a home while trying to remain a stable pillar of a classroom. It is a dizzying blur of bureaucracy, residency rules, and the sheer physical exhaustion of a "global move."

The Complexity of Goodbyes

Then, there are the hearts involved. You are reflecting on the changes in yourself and wondering what your legacy will be once you’ve gone. You think about the dear friends and colleagues who have become your "expat family", the people who were there for the birthdays, the illnesses, and the long weekends when home felt too far away.

Saying goodbye is an art form that many of us never quite master. You wonder how to honor your own discomfort with goodbyes while recognizing how important they are for those you leave behind. You reflect on the cultural clashes you embraced and those you resisted; the ways you grew, sometimes through painful friction, sometimes through sudden, beautiful epiphanies.

You think of the staff who went before you, and you find yourself wondering if you will do things differently at the next school. Will the challenges be the same, just with different faces? You are a cocktail of hope and nerves.

The Student Connection

Underneath the spreadsheets and the packing tape are the students. These are the lives you touched briefly, and the children who touched yours. Even as you prepare farewell parties and leaver assemblies, you feel the weight of their impact. They are the reason you want to get the transition right. You want them to feel secure even as their world shifts.

A Call for Better Offboarding

This struggle is real, even in high-functioning schools. However, if you are in a school currently navigating internal challenges, restructures, or big leadership changes, the load is amplified tenfold. The atmosphere can feel heavy with "what ifs" and "if onlys," making it even harder to leave with a sense of peace.

It raises a vital question: What can schools be doing better to support leaving staff?  While international schools often do a good job at "onboarding," they are surprisingly poor at "off boarding." If you are lucky you might get an exit interview. A school that supports its leavers with the same vigor it welcomes its joiners creates a culture of lasting respect. 

When the transition is handled with empathy, acknowledging the emotional and logistical burden, it has a significant impact on the cohesion and smoothness of the entire school climate.

To those of you currently standing in this "liminal space", with one foot on the plane and one foot in the classroom, know that you are seen. The transition is not just a move; it is a transformation. May you find the grace to finish well, the courage to let go, and the excitement to begin again.