Today I cried. Not because I was physically hurt. Nor was it because someone hurt my feelings. I cried because I closed a chapter of my life.
After 13 years as an educator, I signed in for the last time.
You see, 30 days ago I put in my resignation. I was finally fed up with being treated as though I was incompetent, inept, and inferior.
I wrote my resignation letter back in August after finding out I would be teaching a ninth grade course. Now, this wouldn't have been so bad had it been discussed with me prior to the decision being made. As a tenured teacher who just so happens to be the veteran teacher in the building in which I worked, I feel as though I deserved that. But I should have know better than to think I would get that. After all, the lead administrator in the building had been hell bent on proving that I did no work in the building anyway. She did exactly what I should have expected.
I have been accused of not doing my job, rated poorly on my informal observations, talked down to, demeaned, and accused of things that are so ridiculous that I thought that surely I was being punked.
But the straw that broke the camel's back was when my time was being micromanaged in such a way that I felt as though I was being treated like a child. I just couldn't deal with it anymore.
I don't appreciate when people feign concern for me or my well-being. I also don't appreciate people acting as if they are doing favors for me when they have done nothing but belittle me and make me feel miserable.
We all know/knew that teaching during the time of Corona would be different. But the people who seem to be suffering the most are the teachers. We have been expected to extend grace when none has been extended to us.
We have been expected to work miracles with students who are not required to be engaged in their own educational process. And why? To continue to secure federal funding for schools that are only educating students on paper. There has been, for the most part, no real learning since school shut down back in march. Now, let me be clear. There were teachers who continued attempting to assign materials. They provided assignments and work for students because they knew that grades would have to be justified. I was one of those teachers. But there were many who had been on break since spring break and school did not reopen until September 1. That is completely unacceptable. But it is what it is.
There was nothing that I could have done to have proven to my principal that I was working and my students were thriving. There is nothing I could have said to convince her that her perception of me was false. It was a toxic situation and I felt unwanted. So I left.
Leaving the district- leaving that school was like a bad break up. Someone has to be the villain while the other inevitably becomes the victim. Which do you think I became in this story? It's so sad. All I really wanted to do was teach and help the kids grow.
Breaking the news to them was quite easily one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. But I did it and they understood. I will miss them so much.
I said my goodbyes. I returned my keys. I deleted the virtual platform on which the work was being done. And I cried.
I'm not sad, though. This is closure that I needed from a toxic situation that would have only gotten worse.
The outpouring of support I have received since I announced my decision has been nothing short of amazing.
And I can't wait to start the next chapter of my journey.
I quit what became a job. And I don't regret it one bit.