Good bye and thank you...

One of my favorite movie musicals is Evita. There's this one scene where she dances in and out of the arms of a bunch of different men as she climbs her way to the top. By the end of the number it's all kind of just a blur and you can't even recall all of their names.
That's kind of how I feel at my school. We have a huge revolving door teacher population. Every year we gain/lose about a dozen teachers/counselors out of our staff of about 50. It's actually at the point know where it's ridiculous. My first year was one of our biggest years. There were about 15 new faculty. There are 2 of us left. There is, as of this week, only one left from the group that started the year before. The rest of moved on to "better" schools or had babies and quit teaching all together.
It's been a pleasure serving with so many talented educators, but honestly, I can't remember them all. That disturbs me. This is a middle school, so 2 years after you leave, there is not a single student left in the building who remembers who you are. Only the teachers remember you even exist. In a school like this with such a huge turnover, after about 5 years there's only a very small handful of teachers left who ever worked with you, no matter how long you've been here. You can toil and slave and fight for truth and justice for decades to be completely forgotten in 5 years.
This seriously disturbs me because the most recent person to leave the school is my long-time friend and acquaintance Belinda Ayala. She has slaved for this school for almost 10 years and honestly, she is leaving behind virtually no legacy. The 7th graders she had this year will only remember her a little because she had a student teacher working with them 1st semester. Most of the support staff that served under her will be released from their positions at the end of the year. She has a many friends with the faculty and staff, but odds are that at least half of them will leave the school some time in the next 5-7 years. So many years of sacrifice and service and I am willing to bet that after next year, it'll be like she was never here.
This scares me, because it makes me wonder what will happen to me some day when I leave. It also makes me wonder what lies in store for me in the future. I'd eventually like to end up doing teacher education on the University level but who knows if I'll ever make it that far. If I think about it for more than a few minutes, I just end up with a head ache and a bad taste in my mouth.