From 2004-2013, I worked as a middle school teacher in a variety of settings (after-school teacher, after-school administrator, and classroom teacher). During that time, I experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows of my life. Through teaching, I learned two lessons of adulthood--one, human-constructed systems are inherently flawed, and two, without relationships, societal change is impossible.
In the fall of 2013, I realized that I was burning out. I had put my passion and energy into my work for 10 years, I had achieved mixed results, and I was beginning to feel like I was running on empty. I had told myself long ago, during my teacher training, that if the day came when I was not teaching from a place of joy and passion, it would be time for me to leave teaching.
Like any teacher, I ended up having a lot of days like that. But as those soul-crushing days started to appear closer and closer together, and the days where I felt victorious began to spread further and further apart. I felt like I had no fuel left to deal with the myriad of daily challenges that teaching was presenting me with. I felt disconnected from the reason I began teaching, which was to form connections with kids that would help them to develop a lifelong love of learning and self-development. I realized that this was the onset of burnout, and that if I stayed, I would have to either numb myself or suffer a nervous breakdown.
In December of 2013, I made the decision to step away from my teaching position. If you are reading this, you have almost certainly suffered the fallout of being taught by someone who was not happy to be teaching. I refused to become that teacher. As I filled up my car with my belongings that had been in the classroom, I felt certainty that I was doing the right thing and yet I also felt deep, unspeakable sadness that I was leaving teaching with a feeling of defeat. What I had expected and what was possible for me had been so mismatched that I could not go on. I came into teaching passionate, energetic, and empowered, but I left feeling defeated and speechless. I am still recovering from this sense of loss, but I have now realized that this act of hitting bottom has also opened up the world for me. (click here to continue)
In the fall of 2013, I realized that I was burning out. I had put my passion and energy into my work for 10 years, I had achieved mixed results, and I was beginning to feel like I was running on empty. I had told myself long ago, during my teacher training, that if the day came when I was not teaching from a place of joy and passion, it would be time for me to leave teaching.
Like any teacher, I ended up having a lot of days like that. But as those soul-crushing days started to appear closer and closer together, and the days where I felt victorious began to spread further and further apart. I felt like I had no fuel left to deal with the myriad of daily challenges that teaching was presenting me with. I felt disconnected from the reason I began teaching, which was to form connections with kids that would help them to develop a lifelong love of learning and self-development. I realized that this was the onset of burnout, and that if I stayed, I would have to either numb myself or suffer a nervous breakdown.
In December of 2013, I made the decision to step away from my teaching position. If you are reading this, you have almost certainly suffered the fallout of being taught by someone who was not happy to be teaching. I refused to become that teacher. As I filled up my car with my belongings that had been in the classroom, I felt certainty that I was doing the right thing and yet I also felt deep, unspeakable sadness that I was leaving teaching with a feeling of defeat. What I had expected and what was possible for me had been so mismatched that I could not go on. I came into teaching passionate, energetic, and empowered, but I left feeling defeated and speechless. I am still recovering from this sense of loss, but I have now realized that this act of hitting bottom has also opened up the world for me. (click here to continue)