The cat’s out of the bag. Or more accurately, the pencils have scattered onto my carpet. The Cheetos have scrunched themselves all over my teaching desk. Whatever metaphor you choose, I’ve officially released the information:
I’m quitting my job as a high school teacher.
I decided this in September, a mere two months into the new school year. It was a painful realization.
I’d just ended a relationship and I was the biggest mess I’d ever been. I stumbled into the coffee shop to meet my best friend Kristen for our monthly writer’s group.
“I think I’m dying,” I said sobbing into a cup of coffee. “It’s over. My life is over. Everything is awful and I don’t know what to do,”
Kristen listened patiently as both of our coffees got cold. I explained to her my pain and anguish. I told her I choked on a muffin once on the way to work and thought I might die on the way to my shitty job.
That’s when it hit me.
Maybe I wasn’t just unhappy that I lost a loving relationship. Maybe I was also unhappy at my job.
It was the biggest light bulb to ever explode in my consciousness.
“But what am I supposed to do?” I asked her. “I can’t just quit,”
“Yes, you can,” she said. “You can quit.”
I don’t know why I needed her to say the words. But somehow I needed permission. I needed someone to tell me that it was okay if I didn’t want to be a teacher anymore.
I was becoming a martyr. Every single day I was losing more and more of myself to my career. I didn’t even recognize myself anymore.
And even scarier, I was good at hiding it.
When I told my students last week that I was leaving, they were shocked. Some gasped out loud. A few started tearing up. Many came to hug me at the end of class. One shouted from the back, “I bet she’s leaving because of us.”
Don’t flatter yourself, darling. This actually has nothing to do with you.
The news didn’t impact every kid. I still found a tiny penis made of clay on my computer keyboard. I still stepped in a wad of gum on my way out the door. The world hadn’t stopped existing because I’d said the words.
I have a lot of feelings about the past two and a half years of teaching. Some that make me laugh and many that keep me up at night. It’s hard to say right now if I’ll end up in a classroom again. I can’t say for sure where my life is taking me or what I’ll accomplish in this lifetime.
But I do know that there are a few things I’ll miss about this job. And a few things I won’t.
What I’ll Miss:
The look on a kid’s face when they finally get what I’ve been trying to teach them for the past hour.
What I Won’t Miss:
The fact that I’ve been repeating the directions to this assignment for the past hour and you just now are listening.
What I’ll Miss:
When a kid tells me that I am their favorite teacher.
What I Won’t Miss:
Realizing that I might be surrounded by some really incompetent teachers.
What I’ll Miss:
When a quiet kid in the back cracks a smile at that joke I just made.
What I Won’t Miss:
When half my class is on their cellphones and misses that joke I just made.
What I’ll Miss:
Finding surprise love notes from my children on my desk.
What I Won’t Miss:
Finding surprise hate emails from parents in my inbox.
What I’ll Miss:
My kids embracing my weirdness.
What I Won’t Miss:
Having to embrace the weirdness of telling a parent their kid can be kind of an asshole.
What I’ll Miss:
Seeing my sleepy 1st and 2nd period classes try to stay awake during a note taking day.
What I Won’t Miss:
Trying to stay awake during Profession Development meetings.
What I’ll Miss:
Wednesday’s after school with my Comedy Club.
What I Won’t Miss:
Not getting paid for all the cool shit I do after school.
What I’ll Miss:
Seeing my students participate in community building and volunteer work like a week to raise thousands of dollars to send a terminally ill 4-year-old to Disney World.
What I Won’t Miss:
Being told I have to buy my own paper to make copies for my students. And also that I’m not really allowed to use the copy machine in the first place.
What I’ll Miss:
When my students wave to me in the hallway, then whisper to their friends about how cool I am.
What I Won’t Miss:
When I get a pen from administration on Teacher Appreciation Day. Okay and some ice cream. That was nice I guess.
What I’ll Miss:
When my student’s remember to say “please” and “thank you” because I’ve taught them the value of being kind and respectful.
What I Won’t Miss:
When I tell people I’m a teacher and they treat me like I have cancer. Or when they tell me the education system is fucked up because of me.
What I’ll Miss:
When a kid writes something funny on their paper, or leaves me a cute drawing.
What I Won’t Miss:
The endless stream of grading papers that is so intense I have literally started grading papers in my dreams.
What I Won’t Miss:
Not having a social life for 10 months out of the year.
What I Won’t Miss:
Being told I don’t deserve to have Spring Break's, Christmas Break's, or Summer’s off.
What I Won’t Miss:
Spending thousands of dollars on school supplies for my students.
What I Won’t Miss:
Ripping literally EVERY nice article of clothing I have on a damn desk because my classroom is above capacity.
What I Won’t Miss:
People adding more and more students to my classes and then having to add more desks to my room for me to trip over.
What I Won’t Miss:
Spending several hours in a meeting that could have been an email.
What I Won’t Miss:
Passing out on the disgusting couch in the office throughout the school day because I am so tired.
What I Won’t Miss:
Other teachers telling me “not to be tired.”
What I Won’t Miss:
Bullshit tasks that measure my “effectiveness” as a teacher.
What I Won’t Miss:
STANDARDIZED TESTING, MOTHERFUCKERS.
What I Won’t Miss:
That one kid. That one motherfucking kid.
What I Will Miss:
The rest of my kids.
I could keep going. For ever and ever.
The truth of the matter is the only thing I’ve ever loved about this job is the kids. When I told them that, they gave me a round of applause. They supported me. They knew I would always love them. They asked if they could add me on Snapchat and Instagram at the end of the year. I said I would think about it.
It’s been the toughest choice of my life. After all, I’ve spent the past 20 years of my life thinking about and becoming a teacher. It’s hard to imagine my identity as anything else.
But I know that I have worth outside of my classroom.
As a writer, as a comedian, and as a creative force.
And I wouldn’t be any of those things without the experiences I’ve had as a teacher.
So maybe it’s not goodbye forever. Maybe I can simply close the door to my classroom and open a window and crawl in elsewhere.