“Thank you for teaching me that what I have to contribute to the profession is valued. You have taught me that my passion is worth fighting for, and my love for the profession is worth protecting.’
What do you do when it all goes pear shaped? What do you do when you just don’t want to continue turning up to school with a smile? What do you when it feels as though there is nothing you can do to change your school? Well, rest assured that you are not the first, nor will you be the last to go through this. I’ve been there, and most of the teachers that you work with have been there too.
My first and second years in the teaching profession were fantastic. I had wonderful supervisors, a supportive teaching staff and a great executive. But in the third year it all came tumbling down. I was perhaps a little naïve, bright eyed and still bushy tailed – but I am not apologising for that. I walked into my newest teaching post full of ideas on how to engage the students in my class. My teaching supervisor was wonderfully supportive, incredibly releasing and embraced my new ideas openly. But I got off on the wrong foot with the executive and principal. The school was a terrifying mix of private school privilege, a bullying executive team and a toxic culture in which individuality and deviation form the established programming and curriculum was vehemently disallowed. One morning, I was marched into the principal’s office and I was told that I was unsuitable for the job, and that If I didn’t resign immediately my (wonderful) class would be told that I no longer wanted to teach them and that I chose to leave. It was a horrible experience, one that I will never forget.
I like to see myself as a positive person, but this one hit me hard. It rattled my world, and made me really question if I was even capable of being a teacher. I walked out of the school in tears, phoned my wife, and went home. I stayed in bed for three days, cried a bit more, looked for non-teaching jobs online and contemplated if six years of University (and still counting) was actually worth it. I have decided not to share this story until now, but I do so in the hope that it instils in you all, or just one of you, the hope to push on, and fall in love again with you the teaching profession.
So how did this horrible, heartbreaking and painful professional lesson turn into one of the best things in my career?
- I learnt to appreciate, as Megan Dredge says, that ‘passion is your responsibility
- I learnt that sometime school culture can make even the most passionate teachers question their career choice.
- I learnt that sometime you just need to sleep for a few days, talk to your spouse, and get a little perspective.
- I learnt that you have to know why you teach – I meant really know.
- I learnt that what I have to offer, and what you have to offer, is important to totally necessary.
- I learnt that sometimes you just need to make a change.
- I learnt that however tough it seems right now, you will get through it.
- I learnt that everyone has setbacks, doubts, and at times questions if they made the right career choice.
- I learnt that you never make a significant life decision when you are tired, sick, frustrated, or stressed.
There have been a number of times that in the years after that I wanted to shoot off an email, write an angry letter or pick up the phone and speak with the principal of that school. I wanted to ‘give them a piece of my mind’ (as my nan would have said). Recently I have considered getting back in contact with that principal, but it is not to yell, scream, or tell them how I felt, but to say ‘thank you.’ I haven’t yet, but one day I might. I think I’ll say:
‘Thank you for teaching me that what I have to contribute to the profession is valued. You have taught me that my passion is worth fighting for, and my love for the profession is worth protecting.’
My time in that school actually turned out to be one of the best lessons of my professional life.
What has been the hardest professional lesson that you have learnt?