The Teachers Who Quit

In 2019, before Covid-19 and all of the ensuing fallout from the global pandemic, I submitted a piece to Kappa Delta Pi's Why I Teach writing contest. I was in my fourth year of teaching, had recently landed a dream position to help open a laboratory, project-based middle school in the fall, and was positive that I would be enthusiastically teaching the traditional K-12 classroom until my retirement. You can read the original piece here.

This is a tough piece for me to go back and read. My first year in the classroom was full of challenges and staying through the difficulties of that first year was the hardest thing I had ever done.

That was before. With the Covid-19 pandemic and the shuttering of our school building beginning in May and lasting through October 2020, teaching became challenging like never before. As I know every teacher who has lived and worked through this pandemic can attest, we worked through learning new technologies and adapting instructional materials for a fully digital environment. We consoled students through the illnesses and deaths of family members. We burned the midnight oil, working long hours to try to keep up with what felt like daily new demands. I was hanging on, but just barely...and in September, the pressure on myself and my family grew to be so much more intense than anything else I had experienced in the profession. When my partner got a job offer in another state, we decided to take it...and for the first time in my adult life, I was out of the classroom and wondering what to do next.

And I wasn't the only one. Last spring, summer, and fall it felt like teachers all over the country were retiring and resigning right and left. It's hard to say just how many teachers have left the profession in the past year...but I know from networking and socializing with other teachers that it is likely many more than in a standard school year.

As a newly minted stay-at-home mom and wife, I had a lot of time to read about teachers who chose to quit and to reflect on my own exit from the traditional classroom. My original essay is all about working through challenges of teaching, sticking with it through trials and tribulations, and finding the silver lining. The second-to-last paragraph is the hardest part for me to go back and read:

"Knowing that I can make a small difference each day, just with my own kindness and tenacity, and knowing that I am modeling qualities like empathy, perseverance, and open-mindedness for the world’s future leaders and activists is so rewarding, and it keeps me coming back to the profession year after year."

Choosing to resign in the middle of a global pandemic is an excruciating choice. There are many factors, from family finances to career trajectory, that teachers worldwide who wanted to quit had to weigh. Underlying all of the personal factors, fears, and concerns was the feeling: I am abandoning my students.

You see, for me the kind of relationships I built at my school were special. I worked mindfully to make every student feel seen, heard, and cared for. As a result, I had great relationships with most of my students and their parents, and teaching them was an absolute joy. The students are the best part of the job. I also know that kids need stability to thrive at school. I felt like I had to make an impossible choice between doing what was right for my health and my family, and staying on for students who loved and needed me. I knew I wasn't alone in my feelings. All over teacher blogs, social media groups, and message boards, I saw teachers carrying the same weight of sadness, anxiety, and guilt.

Ultimately, I realized I couldn't be a good teacher of students when I was trying to cope with so many overwhelming feelings. I knew it would be hard for everyone, but I also knew the right thing to do was for me to step away and try to reset during the year it all shut down. It was the hardest decision I have ever had to make, and I hope I never face a decision that agonizing again.

I think for several months after resigning, I was moving through a fog of overwhelming sadness, regret, and guilt. I was trying to enjoy having more time with my family and living life at a slower pace, but I missed greeting my sixth graders in the morning. I missed coaching debate practices. I missed joking around with my colleagues. I missed the pride of solving a unique challenge or helping a parent resolve an issue.

As time went on, I slowly started to feel better and to reflect back on my decision to leave the classroom. There were three main takeaways for me that I hope will help other teachers who are finding themselves in a similar position.

I Am More Than My Job

This one is tough for teachers, am I right? We rarely have a spare evening to ourselves, much less a weekend dedicated to something other than grading papers, planning lessons, or catching up on all the house chores we've been neglecting. The pay for teachers isn't great so for most of us, we stick with the profession because we love what we do and we love our students. We collect dozens of "#1 Teacher" coffee mugs, we give to students' fundraisers, we staff concession stands at sporting events, we spend sleepless nights worrying about particular students, we dedicate hours each semester to continued learning and professional development. We take a lot of pride in our work. When our students tell us we're their favorite teacher or a parent sends a nice note, it makes our day. When we get positive feedback from our administrators, we feel like we're on top of the world. Yes, it's easy to make teaching a central part of your identity when it's something you love so much.

The adjustment to no longer having those activities in my life was hard, but soon I began to do things I hadn't had the time for in years like reading and actually finishing a novel. And then another one. And then another one. Picking up writing again. Going an entire week without ordering take-out or running through a drive-through. Making a regular habit of calling extended family and old friends just to catch up. Taking weekend trips into nature with my family without the call of my laptop and gradebook making me feel bad. Finally learning to play the guitar I ordered on a whim five years ago. Reading my son four or five stories before bed instead of just one. Downloading a fitness app and learning new skills and habits to take care of my body.

I am healthier and happier now that I have had some time away from the classroom. I look at myself six months ago and I see an awesome teacher, but a poor mother, wife, daughter, friend. I was burning myself out in a hurry and it took a full reset for me to see just how much teaching was taking over. Now no matter where my career takes me in the future, I feel better equipped now to find a balance that is healthy for me and my family.

The Students Will Be Ok

For just about every teacher who has made the painful choice to walk away, the loudest voice among our spinning thoughts is the one screaming "HOW COULD YOU LEAVE YOUR STUDENTS?!" It goes against everything we know and every instinct we have to help and protect our students to resign in the middle of a school year, before the job is done. Throw in a global pandemic and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that your students are already feeling all of the things from angry to confused, and the decision becomes that much harder. When you have a great relationship with students, it is really painful to consider hurting them with your departure.

Telling my students goodbye was an emotional week. It was even harder through our virtual learning screens. Some students responded neutrally. Maybe my leaving was just another disappointment in a long, disappointing year. Other students, I could see tearing up through the screen. I just wanted to reach out and give them a big hug. I expected to feel at least a little relieved when I finally logged off from my last class, on my last day, but all I felt was sadness and shock.

This lasted for a long time. But I kept up with my students through my former colleagues. Some of their parents friended me on social media so I could remain a part of their family's lives, or texted me to reassure me that my students were ok. A former colleague asked me to drop in to lecture her class for one of their science projects, and I followed the success of the debate program I helped found closely through online tabulation results.

As children do, my former students are thriving. I might no longer be their teacher, but they are learning, pursuing interests and hobbies, and enjoying time with their family and friends. The colleagues I left behind, who I endlessly admire for their toughness and resilience, are still caring for, teaching, and guiding the students we once served together. While I never recommend leaving in the middle of the year if you can help it, life goes on. Some students continued to e-mail me on occasion months into my departure. I remember two or three notes where students said they understood my decision and wished me the best. Though the grace and understanding extended by these amazing little people would put me into tears all over again, it was good to know that they are ok.

Teaching Will Always Be Part of Me

When I read back through my original piece about teaching, it was the final paragraph that stuck out the most.

"When my time to serve students comes to an end, I know I will look back with love on my extended community of learners and look forward to the future with hope for all the extraordinary things they will do in this world."

When I wrote those words, I had no way of guessing that I would resign from my dream school in just about a year and a half. When I wrote those words, I envisioned myself as a lady in her seventies or eighties, newly retired, sipping coffee out of a "World's Best Teacher" mug as she sits on her porch and thinks fondly back on decades of service in the K-12 classroom.

I don't know if returning to the regular classroom is in the cards for me. Now that I have been able to unwind and relax from the tension of teaching, it is hard to imagine going back. I do miss it. I miss it terribly...but I am choosing to take my sweet time in deciding what I want to do. I have considered a lot of things. From sticking to remote teaching in this new virtual world, to moving into corporate education and instructional design, to starting a small business venture, to going back to the drawing board completely to write the next great novel or go to law school or get my doula certification, I have explored probably hundreds of ideas.

But I know that no matter where life takes me, I will always be a teacher who forever treasures the beautiful memories of classroom triumphs and practical jokes and hugging it out and wiping up spills and drying tears and driving home exhausted but happy because the one student I've been trying to reach finally gave me their homework. Or maybe just a smile. My kids are the future, and even if I never return to the formal classroom, they will always have a friend and a cheerleader in me. It is this heart for my students that kept me in the profession for seven years: the heart of a teacher.