One year ago today was the beginning of my breakdown. Though I wouldn't officially completely crumpled to the point that I was desperate for help and begging for a psychologist or anything that would quell my panic attacks for another two weeks, it started that day. It wasn't until two weeks later that the reality of February 3, 2010 hit and I collapsed into a pile of crazy. On this day last year I came to the conclusion that I no longer wanted to pursue teaching as a career.
Maybe it was because of what happened back during my initial student teaching. Maybe if the recession hadn't hit right when I graduated causing more teachers to be laid off than hired leaving the competition in Massachusetts overwhelming, I would've gotten a job and regained more confidence. Maybe none of that would've matter, maybe I would've found myself in the classroom and determined I hated it. In either case, it I'd be in the same position: no longer wanting to be a teacher and having absolutely no idea what to do instead.
It was almost ten years ago that I was inspired to be a teacher. Teaching and coaching students in figure skating was one of the few things that made me feel good about myself throughout high school. I was good at it; other colleagues, more experienced coaches, would come to me and ask for my help coming up with a different way to teach certain moves. Of course, I knew that teaching children how to read would be vastly different than showing them how to do an inside 3-turn but I was confident that once I was taught the techniques, I'd be able to that. Watching the faces on the kids as they mastered a new element was priceless to me and as an avid reader myself, I only imagined being one of the many people who would inspire future readers.
I excelled in all my education classes and my field study classrooms. Until my first student teaching experience I was excited about the challenge that was waiting for me. I began my student teaching and I knew something was wrong right from the beginning. There were too many teachers and my supervising practitioner and the special education teacher were struggling in their first year together. It was first time either were in that type of setting and they were both used to their own classrooms. Add myself and a new education graduate and it became the classic "too many cooks in the kitchen." It was obvious that all four of us were uncomfortable; I should have gone straight away and asked for a different placement.
Unfortunately, being of the mentality that you never walk from the challenges. I figured that in the real world I could find myself in a similar situation and I would be expected to work through it. There would be no college to run crying to because I felt uncomfortable in the real world so I sucked it up and figured I'd make it work. Little did I know that it was that train of thought that would bury me in the end. That student teaching and what happened immediately after completely destroyed me. As irony would have it, the day I called my supervising practitioner to say that would not be returning to her classroom was the very same day I was elected as the Vice President of the Education Honors Society at my college.
Had it not been for my advisor who was on sabbatical while all of this was going on and who came to my aid when she was heard getting back into a different classroom right away. She told me that I was not the first student that this had happened to despite hearing otherwise from the head of the placement department. Worried that I would never go back if I waited until the next semester she got me in a classroom with another teacher. Sadly, by then the damage was done.
Everyone who heard the details was appalled by the story and my good friend talked to the Dean of Students and stressed that I go to him about it as he wanted to discuss what happened to me as well but I was scared. The placement coordinator only had a year left before retiring so they weren't going to let him go and if he got in trouble with the Dean about it, he could take it out on me in my next placement. By the time it was all over, I just wanted to graduate.
My second student teaching experience was much better and my supervising practitioner was amazing. Although I did enjoy the teaching, looking back I don't know if I ever had time to really evaluate whether or not teaching was the right career for me or if I was just trying to prove it to myself and to everyone else that I could do it. In the end, I left with a great grade and amazing recommendations from those who worked with me and I felt confident that I could have my own classroom. Still, I had four classes left to finish, I went to Costa Rica, and finally graduated with my license in December.
By the time April rolled around I lost whatever confidence I gained and began substituting hoping to better my job prospects. Still certain teaching was the career for I tried half heartedly to search for a permanent position but continued to get into my own way. Finally February 3, 2010 I picked a fight with my mother about perhaps not wanting to be a teacher anymore. I caught her at a bad time and some tough words were exchanged. When I got home from work I was still upset with her and was venting to Dave and picked a fight with him too. More strong words were exchanged and by the end of it I laid on the couch feeling like a shell of myself.
It had been a really long time since I felt like that like I was just a body but my mind and my emotions had flown somewhere else. Somewhere safer where I couldn't continue to hurt them anymore with my actions. The next day I woke up shaken but otherwise okay. I apologized to both Dave and my mom explaining that it was really hard for me to come to the decision to give up teaching and I didn't know how to convey it to them without fighting. Then two weeks later, I collapsed. All those feelings and thoughts that flew from my mind came rushing back and it brought with them the old thoughts and feelings too. Thoughts and feelings from years ago now compounded my already fragile state. I had hit rock bottom.
I did a lot this past year to bring myself back to some semblance of sanity but I haven't really gone anywhere. Today, on a whim, I looked for some other jobs that were out there but where do I even look? What do I want to do? I still haven't got a clue. Should I go to school again? What would I study? Will there even be any jobs out there when I leave? I don't know and I'm still just as lost. Only now I've got a year of therapy behind me so hopefully I can manage my thoughts and feelings a bit better this year. Still, I can't help but feel that maintaining sanity is really all that much of an accomplish or that I'm moving forward in the world.
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