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Tag: leaving teaching

Exhausted teacher at the end of September. Should I leave teaching?

If you’re Googling ‘Will I regret leaving teaching?’ right now…

If you’re Googling ‘Will I regret leaving teaching?’ right now…maybe the real question is, ‘Is it possible to stay?’

Wow, September really did a number on you. It was returning in a post-Covid September that tipped the balance for me.

When I started out I kind of knew what I was getting into (growing up watching my teacher mum work all evening, and hearing stories of my teacher dad getting out after 3 years)…but I guess I wasn’t prepared for living the reality of it.

Being a teacher is not ‘just’ teaching. It’s managing moods; anticipating and de-escalating conflict; playing politics; data management that feels like a tick-box exercise; heck, even spending your own money on supplies (and I’m not joking when I say my mum used to buy me packs of gluesticks for Christmas).

It’s also the personal fallout – being a crap friend; a snappy partner; a distant daughter. Honestly, I didn’t really like who I was when I was teaching. I could bring the very best of myself out for 60 minutes 4 or 5 times, then disappear into a shell when I arrived home. And my health? Ask me how long you can survive on tea and toast for dinner.

I’d already written my resignation letter just before Covid hit but never handed it in. Being locked down gave me some of myself back, but when the reality of post-Covid education hit the following September, I was done.

BUT (and it’s a pretty big but)…

I loved teaching. Really loved it. There is no feeling that compares to having a class in the palm of your hand and watching a bunch of teenagers’ eyes widen as something you’ve been banging on about for weeks finally lands. Or the in-jokes! Oh, the in-jokes! And Year 11 – ah! Joy!

And this is why I say the balance tipped – it was very much teacher joy vs my own joy. Finally, the need to look after myself and reclaim an energy for life finally won out.

I didn’t see another way.

I didn’t think it was possible to be a teacher and live any other way.

But what if there had been?

Now – I offer women just like you the chance to pause before making the jump. To explore the possibility that there is a way to make it work: to put your wellbeing first; to reconnect with the joy of knowing who you are outside the classroom; to set and hold boundaries that protect you and your relationships; and to get clarity on what you want.

And if the answer at the end of all of that is still, ‘I have to leave’, you’ll have reached the decision from a place of calm clarity, not panic.

So, if you’re Googling ‘Will I regret leaving teaching?’ I already know three things:

1 – You love it

2 – You want to know if there’s a way to make it work, and

3 – if there is a way to make it work, where do you even start?

Am I right? Join me on Instagram to be part of the conversation.

“Should I leave teaching?” Well, maybe not today.

“Should I leave teaching?” The million-dollar question…

We’re about 4 or 5 weeks into the new academic year, and already school staff are dropping like flies. Conversations in support forums typically begin with some version of, “I’m not sure I can do this anymore.” Leaders are giving up their leadership responsibilities; teachers are asking for advice on what other jobs they can do; and pastoral and support staff are already tiring of the fatal mix of challenging behaviour from students and lack of support from above.

And I’m having these conversations too – over coffee with friends and with clients in my coaching room…

“How do I survive this?”

I spoke to a client recently about there being a certain level of acceptance that this is a really, really difficult term. If you’re a teacher, leader or member of pastoral staff who genuinely loves her job, accepting (rather than resisting) how this term feels can (as counter-intuitive as it seems) bring some relief. If we accept that it is what it is, but add in self-care non-negotiables, I can support my clients to take care of themselves throughout this period of extreme demand – getting adequate sleep, focussing on good nutrition, getting out into nature, and doing things that bring her joy.

But what if you want out?

And this is what I’m seeing more of…a feeling that this year isn’t going to be any different. That the energy and love for education is no longer enough to make the stress, the long hours and the personal sacrifice worth staying.

It’s devastating. Because these are women who care deeply. Who are brilliant at their jobs.

But they are 3, 6, 10 years or more into a job and they’re wondering, “Does it really get any easier?”

The decision doesn’t have to be made today…

Making the decision to leave teaching is hugely emotional. There are the years of learning and training you sacrificed. The hours spent at your kitchen table marking books. The sleepless nights wondering how to engage your trickiest students. The tears on the way home after an awful day. The fact that this is who you are…

So it can’t be rushed…and the best decisions are made when you feel in charge of your emotions – with headspace and clarity.

My advice?

If you’re a few weeks in to the new academic year and you’re already looking for an exit, give it a few more weeks. Focus not on making the decision, but on looking after yourself enough to create the capacity to decide whether or not to leave teaching (or your pastoral role). What does that look like? Two days a week when you leave on time; creating a ritual to transition from school to home; planning rest and something that brings you joy for the weekend….

Even if you can claim a couple of hours a week that feel like they’re filling your cup, you’ll be able to tune in to what you really want to do. And if that is leaving the classroom, at least you’ll know you left out of choice, rather than necessity.

If you want some support in weighing up your options, book a virtual coffee with me to find out how I can help.

 

Thinking of leaving teaching

How I dropped the shame when I left teaching

Leaving teaching was hugely emotional for me.
Admitting I couldn’t cope.
Leaving behind the very best bits – like having a class in the palm of my hand, or sharing an in-joke with my Year 11s.
I felt a lot of shame and guilt around it. And I thought that other teachers would view me differently – see me as a failure, as weak. Particularly because I was staying in the same school, so there was no hiding from it.
But one day I had a conversation with someone senior. They were asking how I felt about my decision – if I’d made the right one. I said that yes, I felt like I’d got my life back. And what they said next has really stuck with me…
They were envious. They said they wished they could do the same. That they fell into teaching and then seemed to fall into promotion after promotion. Now, they were stuck – they couldn’t see any career move that would give them the same salary…and they had a family to support, so couldn’t drop their pay. And that they wouldn’t know what to do next anyway.
That one conversation completely changed the way I thought of myself as a teacher who had left. There wasn’t anything shameful about it. I didn’t need to feel guilty. It was a brave decision I took before I was in too deep. And a decision that probably loads of people wished they could take.
If the thought of leaving teaching comes to you from time to time, no-one is asking you to make the decision today. But if it’s the thought of ‘What would people think?’ that stops you from allowing yourself to consider it, it really doesn’t have to be that way. Book a virtual coffee with me to find out how I can support you to get clarity.