Teaching Tips & Tricks | Nov 22, 2012
Why I quit my teaching job mid-year (no, it wasn’t the testing)
By Angela Watson
Founder and Writer
Why I quit my teaching job mid-year (no, it wasn’t the testing)
By Angela Watson
I wanted to write a post for those of you who are barely making it, and are so dreading the return to school the following morning that you can’t even enjoy your evenings off. The idea of going back to that place just makes you sick to your stomach. I get it. I have been in your shoes. And I’ll share with you what happened when I quit my teaching position at exactly this point in the school year almost ten years ago.
What my teaching situation was like
Quitting was one of the hardest decisions I ever made. My administrators were blindsided by the decision–after all, I was an experienced teacher with multiple years in urban schools, and I had a good handle on my classroom. My students were learning, and their benchmark test scores showed strong gains. The kids liked me, their parents liked me. Things seemed to be fine. But what people didn’t know was that it took EVERYTHING out of me to keep it that way.
Things seemed to be fine. But what people didn’t know was that it took EVERYTHING out of me to keep it that way.
I had just moved to the state and had no idea what to expect in my new school. I was disappointed to learn that most of my second graders were reading on a late kindergarten level, and the pressure to get them up to speed was weighing heavily on me. We had no windows in our classroom, and were not allowed to have recess or any break at all during the day (per district mandate), so I was stuck in a tiny, dark classroom with a large class of energetic seven-year-olds and zero outlet for all their energy.
Beyond our four walls, the school’s atmosphere was in total chaos. We couldn’t send students to the bathroom alone, as there had been instances of both girls and boys being raped there by other students. One of my kids found a knife on the ground on our way to lunch. An off-duty police officer and a drill sargeant were hired to help control the students in the cafeteria: one of them would bend over and scream in the children’s faces while the other marched up and down the center aisle, yelling into a microphone as the kids threw food around his head.
Not exactly a fun working and learning environment.
Things were quite a bit calmer in my classroom, but student behaviors still posed a huge problem. Getting students to respond appropriately to even the smallest request took Herculean, first-day-of-school efforts from me. It was like the movie Groundhog Day. We practiced the same basic routines and procedures over and over, and three quarters of the class just wasn’t internalizing anything.
My breaking point
I remember the exact breaking point. I hadn’t used our social studies books yet that year, but there was a particular passage I wanted the kids to check out as an intro to our activity. I said to the class, “Okay, when you hear the magic signal, you’re going to take out your social studies books and turn to page 35.” At the mention of the word social studies, one student burst into tears and crawled under desk so he could bang his head against the floor. (Later I learned this was a reaction to social studies he’d begun having in first grade and his previous teacher had no idea why.) Another boy murmured something under his breath, causing all the children in his vicinity to say, “Awwww…Andre called you the B word!”
Simultaneously, another child took out his social studies book but accidentally dropped it on the floor, causing the children around him to laugh. “What you laughing at, punk? Shut the F up!” and then punched the kid nearest him in the arm. The child who was punched did the same thing right back. The two of them sat there glaring at each other, and the children around them were either frozen in anticipation or egging them on to a fight.
Almost every child in the classroom was now either disrupting the lesson or distracted by the disrupters. One child had her hand up asking to go the bathroom. Another had his hand up and was pointing at the child next to him, who was gleefully ripping out pages of the social studies book. Yet another child was tapping me on my arm and asking me to repeat the page number.
As I took a deep breath and made a decision about which fire to put out first, I heard a scuffle outside the door and a voice come over the intercom. “Lockdown, code 3. Lockdown, code 3.” That meant the police were pursuing a suspect in the neighborhood, and I had to cover the small window on our door and move the class away from it.
I wanted to teach…and THAT wasn’t teaching
It was in that moment that I knew my job was not worth the energy expenditure I had to put out everyday. I realized that I was up against too many obstacles, and most of them were insurmountable. Things were not going to improve significantly and I was going to go home exhausted every day for the entire year.
I was managing the classroom, I was maintaining some sense of order, but I wasn’t teaching.
It wasn’t that I was incapable of handling it. That day, I could have had the class back on task within a minute or two after all those interruptions. But those things happened all day long, every day. I was managing the classroom, I was maintaining some sense of order, but I wasn’t teaching.
I wanted to have deep conversations with my students about current events.
I wanted to delve into books with them and watch their eyes light up when they made connections between the text and their own lives.
I wanted to see them develop a sense of curiosity and wonder about the world through investigations in science.
I wanted to teach.
But after seven weeks of school–almost the entire first quarter–the kids still weren’t anywhere near ready for those things. And so I was still spending the entire day disciplining students and teaching them basic work habits and socio-emotional skills.
The worst part? All teachers who were new to the district were required to stay in the same school for THREE YEARS. Sticking it out until June wouldn’t have done me any good, because I would have had no choice but to return to the same situation again in the fall. And again the following fall. I was trapped in that level of stress for another two and a half years, and the thought of going in for even one more day after the long weekend passed was enough to make me physically ill.
And yet the guilt I felt over even thinking about quitting was indescribable.
Making the decision to quit my teaching job
Was I really willing to abandon such a needy group of children in the middle of the school year?
What kind of person would give up on those kids and look for an easier job just so her own life could be more comfortable?
I felt selfish. I felt like a hypocrite. I felt like a failure as a teacher.
But I had to do it.
My principal was shocked and furious, vowing that I’d never work in the district again (Not for a million dollars, lady!, I wanted to yell.)
Even worse was the unexpected reaction of my students. I thought they’d be devastated, but most of the kids barely blinked when I told them Friday would be my last day. Part of their nonchalance was because of their young age, but I realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that they were so used to losing teachers and other important adults in their lives on just a moment’s notice that this was par for the course.
I got hugs and letters and a few tears on the last day, but the majority of the class was so wrapped up in their own issues that they weren’t even thinking about me. Five minutes before the final bell rang, two of my toughest kids got in a physical altercation over an eraser one of them had thrown, and I was so busy dealing with them and school security that there was no opportunity to have wistful goodbyes. My time at that school ended just as chaotically as it had started.
What happened after I quit my teaching job: a fresh start in a new school
My decision to quit in the middle of the year would have been much tougher if I’d had to leave the field altogether. I know that’s the situation for many of you who are reading this post and unable to find other teaching jobs. I quit in a year when there were far more teaching positions then qualified teachers. You’re going to groan when I tell you that within a day of making my decision, I had an interview in a neighboring county and was hired on the spot.
But maybe you can relate to this part: the hope that in a different school, the love of teaching would return.
I can tell you without a doubt that it did. My new school had its problems, of course, but I felt safe there. My students were safe. And I was able to really teach again. I stayed in the classroom for another five years (and probably would have stayed longer, except I got married, moved to New York, and started doing instructional coaching). I even chose to spend my last two years as a classroom teacher in another inner city school.
Urban teaching is where my heart has always been, and will always be. I know that it doesn’t have to be a nightmare. These days I work with teachers in some of the toughest areas of Brooklyn, Harlem, and the Bronx, and I see the amazing things they’re able to do. The quality of teaching and learning in many high-poverty schools is truly exceptional and they can be fantastic places to work.
5 things to know if you’re thinking about quitting YOUR teaching job
There’s no clear-cut moral to this story, I suppose. I’m hoping it’s helpful just to know you’re not the only one and someone else has been through this.
But there are a few other things I want you to know if you feel like quitting teaching right now or are still feeling tremendous guilt about having quit:
1) It’s not your imagination–teaching IS getting harder.
Our students are coming to school with more and more problems, and the bar for achievement is continually being raised.
2) Sometimes, the school year does not get easier with time, and that’s not necessarily your fault.
Usually I’ve found that teaching becomes less stressful as the year progresses because students get the routines and make more and more academic progress. Occasionally, though, this was not true for me and it’s not true for other teachers I know. Sometimes the class is just a really difficult one and your stress level won’t improve until the following year when you have a different group. That’s very normal.
3) You are not a bad teacher just because your job feels too hard.
Even the best teachers get put in situations that are physically and mentally exhausting. Feeling like you want to quit does not mean that you were not cut out for the job, or are a bad person. The position you’re in just may not be the best one for you, or you may just be having an exceptionally tough year.
4) Quitting does not equal failure.
I struggled with the decision to quit long after I’d left the job, because I felt like I had abandoned the kids who needed me the most. I had to remind myself over and over: It’s not that I couldn’t do the job, it’s that I chose not to for my own mental well-being and physical health. I was not a failure, I was successful in taking care of myself. I have many other responsibilities in life in addition to being a teacher, and I was not willing to let all those other areas fall apart because of my job.
5) There are lots of ways to use your talents and gifts to help children.
Many teachers who quit still have a deep desire to work with children and make a difference in their lives. There are many, many ways to do that. Your career as an educator does not have to be over simply because you don’t want to stay where you’re at.
Is quitting really the answer?
Now, to be clear: I’m not telling you to quit your job. Quitting is not always the right decision: in fact, there were plenty of other low points in my teaching career in which I wanted to walk away but didn’t. During those times, I found that I was frustrated in the moment, but I knew in my heart that things WOULD get better, that an overbearing principal would transfer to another school (he did), that the transition to a new curriculum would be for the best (it was), or that I could make it through just a few more months with an exasperating parent or student (I did.) One of the best things about teaching is that every fall is a new start. Sometimes the best thing to do is hold on until then.
But for those of you who have emailed asking me whether to quit your job or teach on (and there have been hundreds of those emails over the years), I continue to say: do what you know is best for yourself.
If you’re not sure, keep teaching. Hang in there as long as you can.
Read Awakened: Change Your Mindset to Transform Your Teaching and learn how to perceive stress differently.
Read Unshakeable: 20 Ways to Enjoy Teaching Every Day…No Matter What and get ideas for infusing your day with meaning, purpose, and joy.
Join The 40 Hour Teacher Workweek Club and get productivity hacks to help you achieve balance.
If and when you hit that breaking point–your gut feeling is to go, and the reasons to leave truly outweigh the reasons to stay–you’ll know, and you shouldn’t ignore that realization if you can find another option.
You will hear many voices within the school system telling you to prioritize your work (or more accurately, your students’ test scores) but it will be far less often that you hear the message to prioritize your health and well-being. I’m telling you that today.
It might mean finding another job, or it might mean staying and developing different coping strategies for stress, but my advice is to do whatever it takes to avoid complete burn out. I think as teachers we owe that to ourselves.
I’d love to read your stories on this topic. Have you ever quit mid-year? Are you thinking about doing it? What advice would you give teachers who are in that position?
Angela Watson
Founder and Writer
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I am a new teacher and I just graduated in December. I got offered a long term substitute position thinking it would be a great experience and I could get my feet wet. Little did I know I would be upset each day and not getting any teaching practice in.
This school was not a comfortable environment. I had 6 year olds cussing, fighting, throwing chairs and getting suspended. Some of my students yelled at me and did not listen to a single word that I was saying. I left each day feeling a sense of disappointment and waste of time.
I got offered a job in a different county and decided to accept it. Therefore I had to quit my long term sub job a week ago early. The principal was furious and said she would be letting human resources know what I did.
Will I be screwed for the future? Will l ever be able to get a job in that county again?
I don’t know if you’ll be able to work in that county again, but I don’t blame you for taking a permanent teaching position when it was offered, considering there was only a week left on the long term sub position.
I have read through the majority of posts, and I am largely in agreement, sympathy, and empathy of many of the situations and individuals mentioned. Before I taught four years at a private school and my current teaching position in a public school that is currently two years accredited with warning and may very well lose its accreditation after this school year, I had worked two years as an instructional assistant in a public school (sorry for the long sentence English teachers). I had a great experience at the school in which I worked as an aide, and was encouraged by other teachers and the lead principal to pursue certification (which I did). Though I do not have a lot of teaching experience (less than five years), I have noticed some recurring issues in education (be it private or public) that are concerning in my opinion.
Some of the issues that I have noticed in both types of school settings:
1) Administrators are often dishonest with one another, students, parents, staff/faculty, and the surrounding community on multiple fronts. Every administrator that I have worked under, including my time as an aide, appears to have this fantastic way of telling people what they want to hear depending on the individuals involved and the situation. Support seems to be proffered to the one with the “biggest stick” so to speak. Oftentimes (not surprisingly to many teachers), that support is by and large reserved for students, parents, and other administrators to the detriment of teachers who are making an effort to stand on principle in many scenarios. What better way to show your support for your teachers than to diplomatically “pull the rug from under them” in situations in which they are doing what is right and in the best interest of students? I didn’t really mean to do that to you and expect you not to get upset over that situation. Hey, let’s rub elbows at the next faculty Christmas party, eh? I know that there are upstanding administrators out there who do operate with a sense of consistent integrity, yet I do not feel that I have witnessed this kind of individual with any regularity in any of the schools at which I have worked.
2) Parading student academic/scholastic mediocrity as if it were the gold standard. As a friend of mine once put it, we have done away with “average” in our schools. It seems that we want every student to believe that he/she is the “next” Bill Gates, Albert Einstein, Ernie & Bert, Peppermint Patty, Tarzan, Jane, etc. There are a number of “advanced” students whom I teach that believe they are truly advanced just because they are taking all/mainly advanced classes. It does not matter to many of them or parents that they are not genuinely becoming educated in the true sense of the word. How many students have you taught that have been lackluster honor roll students who thought they were “ok” because they made “A”s and “B”s and yet have not developed much in the way of critical and analytical cognitive skills? And many parents are alright with this notion because their child(ren) has good grades, which means a bright future in their minds. Yet place many of these students in more classically taught classes/courses where much of the fluff is removed from their grade and they have to struggle with some sincerely difficult concepts and what happens to the egos of parents and students then?
3) This desire to have teachers/educators fit a mold that involves edutaining (oops, I meant engaging) students every single minute of every class period. I am just about nauseated by the over-usage in my opinion of the word “engagement” in modern education. It almost always seems to be closely related to this idea of keeping the educational experience “fun and gamey” at all times for all students. If an administrator observes your class and the majority of students do not appear to be engaged throughout that observational time, then this tends to be a sign of weakness and an area of improvement in your didactic style. It’s as if every class for every subject has to involve games in various forms to “get” students motivated and interested in learning. You are supposed to wave a wand or give a pill that will cause another person’s intrinsic motivation for learning to increase magically. Old-school teaching that involves sitting down and reading a textbook for comprehension, learning how to create outlines, and listening to an adult verbally explain concepts is completely frowned upon in many districts. Many school districts claim that part of their mission is preparation for higher education of some sort after secondary education, yet many juniors and seniors are subject to the same age inappropriate antics that elementary and middle school-aged youth are. How many college undergraduate/graduate courses did you take in which your professors regularly played computer/board games with you. Was the “dog and pony” show one that you watched a lot as a child? To hook and keep them, it’s as if we all have to become entertainers on a regular basis.
4) Constructive criticism does not seem to be an instrument that teachers are allowed to use toward others if it involves much in the way of negative commentary. Teachers are to submit to the thoughts, feelings, and actions of poorly behaving/achieving students, disgruntled parents/guardians, at times overly student-centered guidance counselors, and watchful administrators in a “help me to understand you and your needs” fashion without much in the way of complaint. Yet from many of the posts, I would wager that many of the health problems that many of you suffer(ed) were related directly and/or indirectly to some of the pent up frustration, anger, & bitterness that you felt as “invisible men and women” in America’s classrooms. Trust me, this is a current sticking point for me, as I am learning to voice my frustrations more and more as the school year progresses. I am giving students a little pass due to their youth & difficulty in expressing themselves constructively (though not too much), yet I am becoming increasingly less accepting of what I see as excuses and coddling that supporting adults (admin & guidance counselors) are offering. I believe the current national statistic of approximately 50% of all new teachers leaving within the first five years is in part due to this implied code of silence imposed on teachers who often may be fearful of occupational repercussions if they were to tell “big brother/sister” how they truly felt. I would encourage us to do so and breathe a sigh of relief (even if we may have to go lookin’ for another job) rather than sit on it and have our health and relationships with family and friends suffer at the cost of those who see us as expendable anyway.
The list could go on, but for the sake of other posts I will cut it short. I do plan to finish the school year at my current school, though only the LORD knows what He has for me after the school year. Prayer from those of the household of faith would be appreciated, as I can relate to many of your frustrations with this profession. I have told people that I find it ironic that I have worked harder this current school year as a public school teacher than I did for four years as a private school teacher, YET, I feel that I was more successful, effective, and appreciated as a teacher in a private school setting than in my current public school. It seems that whatever you do is never quite good enough in a public school in spite of the unpaid hours that you work, meetings you attend, lessons you plan, etc. to improve the quality of education and lives of your students. I have been encouraged reading many of the posts, as they remind us all that we are not alone in our experiences. Another irony I have found is that the classroom can often be a lonely place in spite of the fact that you’re almost constantly surrounded by other people throughout the day. I hope this post encourages many of you though it is not completely congruent with the leaving/quitting public school education theme.
I’m not a teacher, but a long-term sub. I subbed for a year straight from 2007 -2008 and enjoyed it the first go round. The kids were challenging, but it seemed like I could handle it better with the kids giving me respect and the class being able to complete the lessons for the day. Unfortunately, I wasn’t hired on at either school that I did long-term sub assignments for (or other ones I applied to) for full-time positions, so I left the field. I took a full-time job in something I had been doing part-time on the side and was there for three years.
I switched gears again and got several contracts teaching adults which restored my passion for the classroom, so I finally got my sub certification back and started again this February. I feel like the kids are different and I’m different. Maybe I came back to the classroom rusty because I used to have my bag of tricks to keep children occupied the whole class period. For example, the first time around, I got an assignment where I found out later it was an EBD class. One of the administrators peeked in and said it was the quietest she ever heard that classroom be.
This time around, I’m a support teacher in collaborative classrooms, which I thought would be easier, but, boy was I wrong. There is a small core of kids who are defiant and make a big deal of it which disrupts the whole class. They talk to me in ways I hope my daughter has never talked to a teacher. Zachary & January, you are both right that classroom management is key. A friend of mine said that if there is no classroom management, there also is no learning.
I say that I’ve changed because I just don’t have that commanding presence where the kids stay or get back in line. It is emotionally, physically, and mentally draining to come from work everyday. It’s the intensity of the confrontations and what the kids say to me that causes this. I know I’m doing the kids a disservice by not being able to handle the core of constantly disruptive kids. I do see some kids, in spite the chaos that sometimes erupts, literally block everything out, have pencils scurrying across the pages, with meticulous printing, and really well thought out answers in their writing exercises, who try to shush and manage their classmates for me, and I feel like I’m failing those kids. I also feel like I’m failing the disruptive kids as well, because, when they’re not challenging me, and they’re actually doing their work or answering the questions, there’s a really smart kid hiding under that all that bravado and rebellion. I know with the right teacher, they will be able to get amazing stuff out of these kids. I feel like I’m failing the lead teacher because I don’t know if my presence helps or hurts.
Zachary and January,
I also notice a theme on this site that many of the teachers most stressed are female teachers. One thing I can say good about the school is that it has a good male/female teacher ratio and a multicultural staff where over 90% of the students are minorities. Most of the male teachers are my school are also tall and/or fit men and the students don’t carry on nearly as much in their classrooms as in some of the female teachers’ classrooms. But I will say that some of the female teachers are able to command respect despite being nice and/or soft spoken or way smaller than the kids. Maybe that comes with being actually being called to the job and experience.
One thing I have noticed is that I don’t enjoy going to their staff meetings or sitting at the teacher table because all some of them do is complain (one of the ones doing the loudest complaining is also the one with the students with the lowest scores). We have a team approach where 4 teachers of different subjects teach the same four groups of students. The basis for that is so that the ineffective teachers could learn from the effective teachers. At one of our weekly staff meetings, the administrator over our grade, after praising us for the gains our kids made in our subject area not only over the past year, but also over other schools, did also admit that there are some ineffective teachers in the school that should just be fired. My thought is from all the complaining, the sour looks on some of the teachers’ faces, and the inappropriate or unprofessional attire they wear to school, they should be fired and replaced with people who have a passion for the job and can do it well.
Wow, this was definitely an eye opener. Was accepted to this years 2015 TNTP Teaching Residency Cohort in Baltimore. After reading this, I’m not going to do it anymore.
Thank you so much for this. You saved my sanity.
As much as I hate the idea of turning someone off to teaching…if just reading the comments of this one article is enough to dissuade you from choosing the profession, then I probably did save your sanity. 🙂
A few years, I befriended a brilliant young accountant. She was incredibly bright, caring and compassionate. She was also a legal immigrant from another country. She told me that her company was going to make her move within six months, and she expected more frequent moves. She proceeded to tell me, she thought about teaching in an urban area. Gut instincts told me was too brilliant, too caring and too nice to last in a public school classroom. I told her what she would face in the classroom, and gave her options to volunteer in child-focused nonprofit organizations. She took the choice of the later for now.
So glad you changed your mind. Try a small charter or private school. Baltimore will strip your soul. Bless those teachers who can stand it. Starbucks have better benefits!!! Seriously
Has anyone here received, and possibly receiving treatment for, an official diagnosis of PTSD? This reality is probably an understatement for educators nationwide. However, I am finding few resources to help educators through dealing with it.
This reply may not be helpful, but my mom is a nurse practitioner at a local mental health center. She is not allowed to tell me who her patients are, but she told me (when I was struggling with stress my last year teaching) that she sees many teachers who seem to have symptoms of PTSD. I’m not familiar enough with it to know of treatments, but you are not alone.