To Retire Or Not

Summary

A veteran high school teacher contemplates retirement, weighing the financial and emotional aspects, and the impact on their identity.

Abstract

The article delves into the internal conflict of a teacher who, after meticulous planning and reaching eligibility, hesitates to retire. Despite the financial readiness and a day off to reflect, the teacher grapples with the decision, influenced by interactions with students, the potential loss of identity associated with the teaching role, and the advice from peers. The decision is complicated by the possibility of a severance package if they retire by a certain date, yet the teacher remains undecided, reflecting on the joy of teaching and the anticipation of new roles, like becoming a grandmother.

Opinions

The author feels a sense of responsibility towards their students, evidenced by grading essays on a day off.
There's a concern about the impact of their retirement on other teachers, who may face larger class sizes.
The teacher has mixed feelings about their role, finding both frustration and fulfillment in their work.
The thought of receiving a severance package doesn't significantly sway the teacher's decision, suggesting personal satisfaction is a more significant factor.
The teacher values their identity as an educator but is also considering other aspects of their life and the potential for new identities.
There's a recognition that retirement doesn't necessarily mean a complete end to work, as seen by their continued writing and academic assistance.
The teacher observes that transitioning to retirement can be challenging for professionals, as evidenced by their optometrist friend's reluctance to fully retire.

That is the question

Unfortunately, I am still searching for that sign.

Years ago I started planning for my retirement, spreadsheets for retirement income and expenses, investments I would need to accumulate, things I would do in retirement. Planning and dreaming was so much fun.

Now I am ready and eligible to retire — on paper. There is enough money, and there will be enough income. So what is holding me back?

I took a day off today. I just didn’t feel like proctoring the SAT, and I needed time to think. I actually felt good about taking a day off when I wouldn’t miss any of my classes.

Of course, emails from school still needed my attention. I graded a few essays that came in two days before the deadline so that students could still revise. Yes, that’s what we teachers do on our days off.

Then an e-mail came in from the Superintendent. Rumors were going around that I was going to retire. She needed to plan for next year. I found that curious. I had already heard through the grapevine that they will not replace me. That means the other teachers will have even bigger classes.

Guilty feelings…

The superintendent reminded me that if I didn’t give my notice by April 1st, I would not get the severance. Hm. I did the thought experiment that Dave Ramsey is so fond of:

If I piled up the money on the kitchen floor and burned it, would my life change? I decided the 2k (about 1.5k after taxes) would not change my life. I will take my time.

But what am I still waiting for? Every day, the kids drive me crazy. Why can’t they get their assignments in on time? Why don’t they have more work ethic? But then there are those wonderful young people who will revise an essay four times to get that A. They come in every morning and greet me with such enthusiasm. Being around young people is wonderful even if things don’t always go according to plan.

My retired teacher friends always tell me, “You’ll know when you’re ready to retire.” It’s curious, however, that many came back to school for years, subbing or proctoring tests, or tutoring. It seems that it is not so easy to just pull the plug.

It’s not just my problem, however. My friend’s husband, who is also my optometrist, still works a couple of days a week. He got my last prescription wrong twice. The office staff wishes he would retire. After all, he is 75. He comes in to socialize, they say.

It’s tough to close the door on an identity we spent decades building and expanding. Who are we when we no longer have this impact on other people? What is the impact on our identity when we feel no longer useful, at least not to the extent we felt useful in the past?

So many doors close. A husband dies, and I am no longer a wife. The kids have their own lives. I am still a mother, albeit a distant one. I was a student for many years, and a teacher for 38 (by May). It seems we lose bits of our identity every decade.

I am still a writer (of sorts), and I still help graduate students with their research. Perhaps that will be fulfilling enough. I may even add a new identity soon, that of grandmother.

For now, I have to decide if I give up my identity as a high school teacher, something I have done since my twenties.

Perhaps there will be a sign.