On Wednesday, May 2nd, someone very important to me mentioned that I hate my job casually in conversation, as if this was a known and well-established piece of knowledge between us. I stopped her: “… Wait. I hate my job?” While I try not to make a habit of defining my reality based on what my friends think, and while I do appreciate the respect most of the other people in my life have given me by not necessarily assuming my constant frustration means I hate what I do… I’ve learned and re-learned recently that no matter how much self-reflection you do, at times there’s no clearer mirror to be found than the words of another person.
Why was it so hard for me to decide to stop teaching? Everyone (TFA or no) should be put on administrative leave at the end of their second year, just to see if they’re really meant to stay or go (hint: if you find yourself practically hoping to get fired, it’s a good clue that you’re in the wrong place).
As whiny as I get sometimes (read: last post), I’m truly giddily excited for the freedom this decision brings. I think, too, that at least half of this excitement comes from the very solid feeling I have that I’m finally doing the right thing.
The other half is the prospect of fulfilling what I’ve said for years is my goal in life, which is simply this: to work my butt off trying to make things better.