From as early as I can remember, I wanted to be a teacher. I recall my second grade teacher, who I admired, asking what I wanted to be when I grew up. I looked up at her lovingly and said, “You.”
Childcare and teaching have always been a passion of mine. My nature is calm and nurturing, and my heart has always felt called to teach.
I fondly recall watching my teachers stand at their classroom door, clenching their hot cup of coffee, greeting students, and laughing in the hallway as they shared stories about their weekend with their coworkers. They seemed so happy. Were they stressed? Did they feel the pressure that I feel now?
I am proudly a decade into my teaching career, with endless stories and experiences under my belt. I’ve taught various grades at different schools. I’ve furthered my education twice, sharpening my skills and expanding my repertoire of teaching tools.
But I am disheartened and saddened to say that my once burning hot flame is now quickly dimmed. The career that I once yearned for suddenly feels like a chore that I don’t want to do.
I’ve wracked my brain trying to figure out where the problem lies. Is it the extremely demanding and challenging parents who I cater to relentlessly? Is it the children’s behavior that seems to be getting worse by the year? Is it the unrealistic expectations put on teachers these days? Are standards too high? Is the workload too heavy? Is the pay not equivalent to the hours spent?
Perhaps it’s the pandemic that has thrown us into a world of virtual learning, Google Meets, and digitizing content.
I’m not sure there is a simple answer, but I know this. I am no longer happy in this career. However, the thought of giving up something I worked tirelessly to get feels impossible to do.
I’ve spent the last few weeks creating a list of all my skills and possible career change options. I constantly network, hoping that opportunity will present itself and the start to my new career will begin.
