"Don't you care about your students? You're going to leave them in the middle of the year??" This is what I have been asked today after giving my notice on Friday afternoon. Well, let me just say that I have loved and cared about these students as if they were my family. I have counseled the girl having a self-esteem crisis, I have hugged the student who told me about the time he was shot at by a drug dealer in his neighborhood, I have waited patiently for the student holding years of anger inside of him to feel loved enough to let it out. I have spent my newly-available (and very precious) 20 minutes of lunch helping a struggling student to redo his homework or go over the quiz he just failed. I have visited the home of a student who was out for 2 weeks because of a surgery so he wouldn't fall behind because he was finally starting to get back on track. OF COURSE I care about my students. That's not why I'm leaving. Here's some simple math for you..
New teacher + 6 classes + 1 prep period - proper mentoring + 2 grad classes = a hot mess of teacher
When your job starts to cause anxiety and panic attacks on the Sunday evening before returning from a break, or makes you second-guess your entire career choice, or makes you regularly just want to crawl into a cave and never come out, it's time to leave. After a year and some odd months, that's what I'm finally doing. It's not because I don't care, and it's not because I'm selfish, and it's not because they don't pay me enough (although when someone offers you a raise...)-- it's because I want to maintain my passion and love for teaching. I want to have the energy and enthusiasm required for making a difference. I want to be healthy and happy so I can be there for my students. Yes, I will dearly miss my stinky, weird middle schoolers and will likely cry on my last day. Yes, it is a pain in the butt for everyone involved to leave in the middle of the year...but believe it or not, the pros outweigh the cons here. I've compiled a list of reasons for my leaving, with respect to my administration who is doing the best they can with the pile of lemons they've been handed. Without giving away specific situations/names or trashing the reputation of my employer, here are the factors that led to this decision.
1) Lack of support as a new teacher. I am in my second year (third if you count STEM) of teaching, and while I may have learned a lot...I still have a LONG way to go. They say it takes 5 years to become a masterful teacher, and I'm only halfway there. I'm a pretty awesome teacher, but imagine how spectacular I could be if I had the proper support. This is a tiny school and I'm the only person teaching ELA and Social Studies, so there hasn't been a single person that I could go to about lesson ideas, feedback, or general content-area questions. We have mentors, but there are only 3 or 4 of them and they are spread thin with their other mentees. My mentor's room is at the other end of the building and I'm sure she is overwhelmed with the things they give her, so I never meet with her!
2) Not enough prep time. In many public schools, if a teacher is given 3 different classes to teach, they are also given 3 different prep periods for each class (again, this is in an ideal world). This year, I have SIX classes (3 grades x 2 core subjects) and one prep. As you can imagine, this leads to a LOT of after-school hours and most days I am working 10-12 hours without much of a break. Since I don't have a team that I can collaborate with, I'm left finding resources and creating materials on my own, which is incredibly time-consuming. Being an effective teacher, though, means not just running off copies from a book you didn't read and actually going through the materials you give your kids. Add that to grad classes and you've got a recipe for sleep deprivation and a smorgasboard of other issues related to stress and sleep.
3) No room for growth. Here, I am a middle school teacher. I would like to eventually be an elementary teacher, but so far that possibility has been minimal. There are no departments or big committees that I can lead to gain experience and networks. They need me so badly in my current position that I am, essentially, trapped here unless they find another me. The very thought of not being able to move up, down, or even sideways is terrifying to someone like me, who thrives off of change and adaptation. I need to be able to get my feet wet with new things and gain experiences that will make me a bomb-ass teacher and help me down the road. I eventually want to be an administrator who is still in touch with the realities of working in a classroom, and the only way I can do that is to be in lots of classrooms-- not just one.
4) No retirement, partial benefits. Since I'm still under 26, I can skate by on my dad's health insurance for another few months. However, last year they cut dental and vision from our plans and I can't imagine that they magically found the funds to bring those back for us this year. Considering that I will soon need to be on my own plan, this is something I have to start thinking about (unless, of course, I get married, which isn't happening any time soon). Even though I'm under 30, failing to start retirement accounts early is what comes back to bite a lot of people in the butt. I took a few free community classes to learn about investing and retirement funds, and although a lot of it was over my head (I was only 23), the one thing I do remember is that you should start early. This current school has no plan for that, so when I was offered a matching 401(k), I had a hard time saying no.
5) Salary. Nobody goes into teaching for the money. Nobody. Bigger charter schools pay more, though they are still usually below the state starting average. This is a small charter school that's not part of a bigger system. Living just a little bit above the poverty line is not okay when you've gone through college and are now putting yourself through grad school. My parents are wonderful and have told me time and again that if I need money, they're happy to help me out and I completely understand and appreciate that. But I want to be able to make it on my own, and that starts with being able to pay your bills....and also your kitten's vet bills when she starts having uncontrollable diarrhea (yep, it happened).
Did you notice how salary was last? These are my reasons, though I know there are folks out there who have found opportunities elsewhere who could tell you lots more about why they left. I love my students. I love teaching. I love my coworkers. But if love was enough, teachers would never leave. Nobody would, everyone would stay. At the end of the day, the things that are irreplaceable are the things that really matter: your health, your family, your sanity, your faith. When these things start being compromised, it's time to reconsider your path. It's not about reaching some career end-goal, it's about all the things you learn along the way. If, at the end of it, you've stopped loving yourself and what you do and who you work with, what's the point? So yes, I am leaving my first classroom and my first students because I love them dearly...but I have to remember to also love myself, and that means not losing my sanity along the way.
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