Change is Brave

The first time I left the classroom I grieved for months when school returned. I looked at social media posts from teacher friends and previous colleagues with sadness in my heart. Though I appreciated not feeling that beginning of year stress, I didn’t really know what to do with myself. I felt less whole. Being an educator had become so much of who I was; not being in the classroom preparing for kids made me feel lost and less complete. And, if I’m being honest, it made me feel weak.

In my mind, I kept asking myself why wasn’t I as strong as the other teachers? Why couldn’t I handle the pressure and stress like they could? Why wasn’t I able to balance life and a career I loved and was so passionate about? I mean, I didn’t even have kids, and I couldn’t handle it. I must be weak.

I grieved that entire school year. It also impacted the new job I eventually accepted. Simply put, I missed the commaraderie of teaching, and I missed connecting with young people and making a direct impact on their lives. When you’re in the trenches with others, there’s a bond and connection created unlike others. You spend so much time with these people caring about the students you love. You suffer together, and you celebrate together. Like family, there are days you could probably do without one another, and there are days you can’t imagine surviving without them. This grief and feeling of weakness led me back to the classroom only after one school year.

Then, reality punched me in the face and the gut. Within a month of being back in the classroom, I remembered exactly why I decided to step away. Yeah, the kids could be rude, disrespectful, selfish, and downright annoying at times, but in the end, that wasn’t what did me in. I expected that from the kids because kids are still learning (even high school kids) how to be humans in the world. I mean most adults are still learning how to be humans in the world too. What did me in was the constant pressure like…

• having the responsibility of keeping other people’s kids safe before keeping myself safe: active shooter drills; fire drills and tornado drills with students who couldn’t use the stairs and my classroom was on the top floor, knowing in a real fire the elevator wouldn’t work; students who are runners; protecting students when random fights break out in the hallway or cafeteria; walking through a metal detector entering my workplace
• state standardized test scores: if students with special needs were performing on grade level, or even close to grade level, they wouldn’t be receiving special education so why are they being tested on grade level and why is my success being measured by that?
• education is not valued or considered important by a vast majority of people anymore…and neither are teachers: maybe some think I’m being pessimistic, but I feel I’m being realistic in making this statement
• the expectations put on teachers are completely unrealistic
• managing students’ mental health and behavior overshadows teaching students academics: it is scientifically proven we (of all ages, especially children) do not learn when we aren’t emotionally regulated
• the mental health of students is prioritized (which it should be), however, the mental health of teachers isn’t: teachers are humans who experience loss, family stress, illnesses, etc., if we are intentional in how we treat students who come to school experiencing such realities, why aren’t we intentional in how we treate teachers showing up with the same realities?
• bladder control: Google teacher bladder problems
• lunch: after going to the bathroom, teachers might have 15 minutes to eat lunch
• my heart: I love and care about the kids, my day doesn’t end when the last bell rings, I take the worrying about each one of them home; I was never good at “turning it off” – most teachers aren’t

Upon the realization that I’d only ever survive being a teacher by taking anxiety medication and having weekly therapy sessions for the next 15 years, I decided I didn’t want to live that way. I made the decision to leave again and for good this time. Coming home drained and exhausted every day wasn’t fair to my family. I couldn’t even give a quarter of myself to my husband during the school year because I had given everything I had to the kids in my classroom and to the system that expected too much. Being a teacher that last year did teach me two extremely valuable lessons: boundaries and life is too short to feel anxious and stressed all the damn time.

Currently, I’m four weeks into a new career. It took a lot of courage to change careers. It took a lot of dedication, motivation, and time to fill the gaps, to apply to jobs, to create a new resume, to interview, and to honor the large part of myself that wasn’t a teacher but had let being a teacher take over. From April to August, I applied to 52 jobs. All summer my full time job was learning new skills, revising my resume, applying to jobs, and interviewing for jobs. Out of 52 applications, I got about 6 interviews. I ended up with 2 great job offers the same week. One job was education related, and I would’ve had an opportunity to work with students. The other had absolutely nothing to do with education. I took the other, and I am so thankful I did.

Here’s what I am loving about the career change this go round:

• certainty and fulfillment: I’m certain public school isn’t the environment for me anymore and that’s ok. I work part time tutoring 2-3 hours a week to fill my cup, and my new role allows me to help nonprofits. That is a good balance for me.
• freedom: I work from home. No more long commutes in traffic. The ability to work from anywhere I wish. The trust to do my job without micromanaging. I can go to the bathroom anytime I want as many times as I need. I have a full uninterrupted hour for lunch; I can eat or go for a walk or take a nap if I want.
• energy: The energy and desire to do things after work, to socialize, to be fully present with my family and friends.
• health and security: The safety and security of my home, and the best co-worker (Tony the pig). Better sleep and sleeping in – I don’t start work until 9 a.m. Most importantly, my health has improved – no more anxiety medication, no more weekly therapy sessions, no more severe IBS symptoms. No more “Sunday scaries.” Financial security – no more tanks of gas for commuting and no more money spent on snacks, candy, rewards, school supplies, etc.

I no longer feel I am weak for not being able to stick with it. I feel I’m strong and brave to have made the decision to improve my quality of life, to make my health a priority, to put my marriage before the students, to step out of my comfort zone to grow even more as a human.

Change is not easy and it takes courage to change. By stepping away, I opened a door for a new teacher who could pour into the kids when I no longer could. Staying for the kids would have been selfish because I didn’t have much left to give them. Sometimes love means stepping away.