Bittersweet.
I’ve been sharing both pieces of my news with the kids. They are super-excited about the baby (“You gonna name it Dave, right, after me?”), and a range of emotions emerge in response to my impending leave, from disbelief (“You dead ass?” “Why!?” “I don’t like you no more, miss!” “You can’t leave us!”). It’s hard to explain it to the kids without making them feel that it’s their fault, which it absolutely isn’t. I choose my words carefully and be sure to frame it in terms of “me,” “I,” etc. I tell them, “you deserve a better teacher, someone who wants to do their job.” They say, “But you’re a great teacher. You’re a good teacher.” My response: “Just because I’m nice doesn’t mean I’m a good teacher.” And it’s true. They want to know who will teach them and they make threats to drop out or stop coming to class if it’s this teacher or that teacher. I say, “there will be a new teacher hired to replace and whoever it is, will do her job a lot better than I do mine, and you will get the learning you deserve.” That is usually met with a chorus of moans and grumbles. My sweet kids. They love me, they do and I love them back, even the pains in the asses.
Ultimately, though, it’s not enough. My dissatisfaction grows with every passing day, I develop psychosomatic symptoms, I feel despair creeping in, as much as I try to keep it at bay. I get closer and closer everyday to being ready to articulate the feelings that drove me to quit. I know that I will have to deal with a loss of identity, in a way. Here I am, having thought that teaching would be my life’s work, and at one point, I really and truly felt this way. I had many, many days in which I sat at my desk, staring at an empty classroom, and felt overwhelmed by the feeling that, “yes, I am a teacher and I want to spend the rest of my career teaching. I belong here.” I haven’t felt that way in a long, long time and so now, comes the hard work of grappling with that loss and finding a new purpose, which is somewhere in education, to be sure, probably in the vein of coaching and consulting.
A teacher yesterday said to me, “Where would Martin Luther King, Jr. have been if he quit?” I laugh at the idea that anything I do can be even remotely compared to the work of MLK, Jr. My response: “The biggest difference between me and Martin Luther King, Jr. is that I have no desire to change the world.” True, maybe MLK, Jr didn’t have that desire in the beginning but he surely did at some point. Otherwise, why crusade? Why subject to yourself to hardship and danger? You do those things when your conviction that the world can be changed is so strong, that there is nothing else to do but press on in the face of hostility. That is not me. That is not my reason for teaching. (Don’t ask me–”So, what is your reason?,” because I certainly don’t know anymore.)
Anyway, I’ve said a lot more than what I intended to say when I started this post. I’m sure there will be more to come, as I continue to process my decision. I can identify exactly the straw that broke this camel’s back but I’m still working on how to explain that without making it seem like I’m assigning blame. Bear with me. Your (constructive) comments are welcome.
Doug Noon wrote:
Becoming a parent is changing the world – especially if you approach it as a loving teacher. I applaud your decision(s). Your classroom is only a venue for the work, and you’re simply changing venues. Congratulations.
Posted on 05-Jan-08 at 10:10 am | Permalink
Tamara Eden wrote:
Hey you,
First, Thank you SO Much for lending me the book and for Avi’s little gift. We both thought it was terribly thoughtful.
As far as this post goes, I think the most important thing is your honesty with yourself. If you know your heart is no longer in it. If you know that you aren’t doing your best or that what your doing isn’t like the days when you loved teaching, then I think it’s brave of you to make this change.
I do think the students will lose out because the few years we’ve known each other you’ve always been a quite knowledgeable and caring teacher. Sometimes I wonder if it’s teaching or if it’s the environment you’re teaching in. I mean, I’m not a private school teacher. I’m not a teacher for rich white kids; but I seem to do well with my low income kids. Perhaps when you’re away from the city you’ll find a love of teaching again.
And, even if you don’t teach again, I’m sure whatever you do in education will be positive. Your story is not so different than all the statistics we always hear about. On the NEA website I just found this statistic, “The National Center for Education Statistics reports that 9.3 percent of new teachers leave the profession after only a year (1994-95 data). An additional 11.1 percent leave their assignments for teaching positions elsewhere after their first year. In rural areas and inner cities, these rates are often dramatically higher.”
I’ll share one more quote I just found and with that I’ll say that whatever you choose to do from here on out, I wish you the best.
Statistics show that approximately one-quarter of all beginning teachers leave the profession in the first five years, and those rates can climb to 50 percent in high-poverty areas (National Center for Education Statistics [NCES], 1996; Whitener, Gruber, Lynch, Ringos, & Findelier, 1997). Teacher-attrition rates overall nationally were 6.6 percent in 1994 (Whitener et al., 1997). Current data from Midwestern states indicate that attrition rates can be as high as 9 percent. Such high attrition rates, especially in the early years of teaching, require schools and school districts to expend tremendous energy and resources developing teachers, many of whom will eventually leave. According to the NCREL survey, however, districts are finding and adopting successful strategies for keeping high-quality teachers. One effective strategy to retain teachers is the use of new teacher support programs. (Refer to page 4 for information on the impact of state-level policies on new teacher support programs.)
Posted on 05-Jan-08 at 10:16 am | Permalink
X wrote:
Your life and your choices are yours, not anyone else’s. If other adults try to guilt-trip you [that's how I took the MLK comment, anyway], then f*ck ‘em. I agree with Tamara that you are being brave.
Posted on 05-Jan-08 at 11:41 am | Permalink
Emily wrote:
I’ve already told you this privately, but I think you’re incredibly brave. Being a teacher in an intense environment like the city is a pretty crazy job. It’s not, unfortunately, a job you can sustain. I am convinced of that. It’s easy to let your entire identity be wrapped up in becoming a teacher to the point of losing your sense of self. I’m not saying this always happens, but it seems to be common among teachers.
Anyway, I think you’re brave for leaving something that no longer works and I think it’s honorable of you to recognize that your heart isn’t in it.
Also, like Doug sort of said, you can be a teacher in many ways, and the classroom is only one venue.
Posted on 05-Jan-08 at 6:14 pm | Permalink
Quitting Teaching « Tamara Eden wrote:
[...] a teacher, has decided to leave the teaching profession after about seven years of teaching. Nani is a good teacher as far as I can tell. No, I’m not in her classroom daily (though I did observe her on a visit [...]
Posted on 05-Jan-08 at 6:40 pm | Permalink
Dana Huff wrote:
I was convinced I should quit teaching forever after about four years of it. I did, but I came back. I’m not saying that’s the case with you, I’m just remembering. It’s a hard job, and it’s even harder when your heart isn’t it, as mine wasn’t for a time. But I came back to it and found if the circumstances were different, my heart felt different. I wish you the best of luck in whatever you decide to pursue in the future.
Posted on 06-Jan-08 at 1:36 pm | Permalink
Happenstance wrote:
I think maybe there’s something about this year. This is my 6th year of teaching in the city. I’m actually in a good school, and yet I feel just so tired of it all– the quality reviews, the pressure to collect data, the feeling like I’m working so hard but never feel good enough or successful. Is that true of every job? Added to that the financial pressure, and it just doesn’t seem worth it anymore.
In other words, I hear ya.
Posted on 06-Jan-08 at 5:11 pm | Permalink
Julie wrote:
I too think you’re brave to make this tough choice. It all comes down to you and your happiness. No one should ever dread their job. Good on you for recognizing that it’s not for you right now/anymore. Extra double happiness for you and the alien!
Posted on 06-Jan-08 at 8:20 pm | Permalink
Laura Brodsky wrote:
Ok, Nani. why dont you tell the truth. I made motherhood look like so much fun that you and all your sisters just can’t wait to do it too! Yay for stay at home Moms. and by the way, Im sure you are a great teacher or else all those kids would not be clamoring to have you stay. The fact is, you may just want to pursue something else (see above)but dont ever say you were a bad teacher-thats just alot of humble bull#$#@^^%
Posted on 07-Jan-08 at 12:51 pm | Permalink
Nancy Cavillones wrote:
Ladies and Gentlemen, my mother!
Posted on 07-Jan-08 at 2:08 pm | Permalink
ms. frizzle wrote:
Wow. What a thoughtful post… I think you captured something very real with the loss-of-identity part… but since you are prepared for that, you will find yourself in other things, and other things within yourself.
And, like many have said, leaving now does not mean leaving forever.
Posted on 07-Jan-08 at 7:49 pm | Permalink
Christina Niven wrote:
Nancy – I feel for you, and I wish you the best. Education in the U.S. is not going to get better, so you won’t be missing much. The students are great, but the system doesn’t allow teachers to teach.
Remember, you’re going to be free from paper work blockage, unproductive meetings where real subjects can’t be discussed, phony administrators that need their egos stroked daily, and senseless layers of rules that leave one numb.
When you leave, dust yourself off and be glad you’re leaving a broken system that damages teachers and students alike.
Just imagine, you’ll get to think for yourself again, speak your mind without worrying about who’s listening, make decisions that you can actually act on, and call in sick without making lesson plans. Also, you won’t have to grovel for paper, or beg for paperclips, or buy your own office supplies to the tune of $40 per month.
If you’re lucky, you might work for a place that gives you tuition reimbursement, bonuses, titles, and parties with real plates. And, what about working in a real building instead of a bunch of trailer classrooms. Geez, Nancy, free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, I’m free at last.
Dust yourself off and go get ‘em girl before it’s too late. There’s a real career out there somewhere. There a place for the talented, the driven, the creative, and the individual that wants to shine and soar. Don’t ever look back with the slightest bit of regret.
Many, many blessings.
Posted on 14-Jan-08 at 12:43 am | Permalink