I’m A Teacher About To Do the Stupidest Thing I Have Ever Done
My employer basically told me, “If you don’t like it, then quit, bitch.”
I’m about to do something that will horrify my parents, confuse my coworkers, and get me in a lot of trouble.
After 20 years as a teacher, I have decided to quit.
I know I will be forsaking what many consider a “safe job,” meaning I will walk away from a steady income, mediocre benefits, and the stable routine a 9-to-5 brings.
It’s a stupid, senseless decision that will send me on a dangerous quest and force me to explore the lawless territory of the gig economy. Some might call it brave, and in a way, it is. However, I’m aware it is also foolish.
And yet…I’m so excited I cannot stop giggling.
I’m sure I’m not the only person you have heard talk about this. Teachers are deciding to leave the profession in numbers never seen before, with one in three educators saying “they’re likely to quit and find another job in the next two years.”
Why are so many teachers done with the work they used to love? It’s actually very simple: our employers pretty much told us, “If you don’t like it, then quit, bitch.”
Well, guess what? Challenge accepted
I don’t feel like a person anymore.
I cannot speak for other teachers, but for the past couple of years, I have stopped feeling like a person.
For my employer, I’m a thing they can move from here to there, squash, and exploit, all in the name of “doing more with less…” The part they leave out, of course, is that I’m the one getting less while they claim they are doing more.
They have modified the curriculum, so every teacher gets more students every school year while keeping the pay the same. They keep delegating administrative tasks to us, so they can save even more money while, at the same time, schools are falling apart because they are not investing in keeping them in good shape.
I feel like a cog in a big, heartless machine. But that’s not all.
Teaching now feels like it has lost its soul. Now, I’m just a factory worker, churning out students who meet some random standards that qualify them as “adequate,” while the “defective” ones are pushed away because they don’t fit the mold, and nothing is done to help them.
And those of us who dare say something are told once again, “Then quit, bitch.”
In other words, my employer has made it clear that I’m not that important to them. Once I’m gone, they will quickly replace me. Heck, they will probably welcome it because the new teacher will have fewer benefits, so hiring them will be cheaper than keeping me.
I’m scared; I’m excited.
Given this situation, I felt hopeless and as if I had no way out. And that’s when it hit me:
No, I’m not indispensable to my employer. However, they are not indispensable to me either.
I’m going to use every single drop of talent I have, all of my skills, and what will probably amount to an absurd number of work hours to keep making a living, except, this time, it will be all on my own.
It’s a super risky move, but I can’t do this job anymore because it is not an exaggeration to say it is killing me by submitting me to levels of stress and physical exhaustion that I can’t withstand for another 18 years.
My solution is to bet on myself.
I have a tiny nest egg, some writing gigs in the pipeline, and a vague plan to embrace the wild world of remote work. Is it a dumb move? Totally. Am I scared out of my mind? Absolutely. But the sheer excitement of bidding farewell to my soul-sucking job is giving me life.
Sure, I’m in a bit of a daze right now, torn between the thrill of freedom and the terror of the unknown. But this weird mix of fear and excitement tells me I’m onto something good. Quitting might be labeled as a stupid idea, but for me, it’s the life-affirming move I didn’t know I needed.
I will miss my students, and I’m sure I will also miss my routines, but in February of next year, I will hand in my resignation with trembling hands and then turn around to redefine my future one crazy leap at a time.
Don’t wait! Visit me on Substack now, or you can buy me a coffee.
