Dear Teaching,
We’ve been together such a long time; I hardly know where I end and you begin.
My body beats to the rhythm of terms and bells – the long, cold slog to the end of the winter and the inevitable Christmas cold, the summer term that should be easier, but somehow never is, with its sweaty classrooms and echoes of frantic scribblings in in stifling gyms and halls – they are deep in my bones.
I have written a thousand dates on black boards and white boards and Smart boards. I have made resources on projector acetates and PowerPoint presentations and on YouTube videos. The first children that I taught are on the cusp of their thirties and may have children of their own.
I have grown up, fallen in love, got married, borne children, become who I am. All with you there, by my side. I hardly know who to be without you.
Lately, there have been some very rocky years. The old cliché might be to say that it is me, not you. The truth is, it’s both of us. We’ve grown apart, become different people. You have an ideal of me in your mind that is impossible to live up to. I no longer have the time or will to try.
I thought that if we saw less of each other, it would help. And it has, a little. But during the time we are apart, in every perfect moment with tiny hands and feet, in every joyful call for mummy – I am held hostage by you.
I’m still in love. The musty smells of books and paper, the bright young faces, the camaraderie of the staff room and warm tea on frost-bitten mornings. I depend on you for my sense of worth and so I have clung on far past the point when this was mutually beneficial– not in bravery or selflessness – but out of fear. Even when I know that staying is wrong, even when I know it hurts those I love the most, and you, I have not been able to let go.
Until now.
There is much I will regret. I wish we were parting on better terms. I wish I weren’t leaving students I admire and care for – half way through a gruelling and rigorous new GCSE. I wish I didn’t feel like this is a failure.
But there is also an overwhelming sense of relief; I don’t have to pretend any more. I don’t have to choose. Is there someone else?
Yes. My quality of life. My children.
I know I am lucky. You have given me so much. I wish I could be better for you – I always danced along a precipice –at my best, my highest point, there was constantly that sheer drop, centimetres away. My stomach always lurched at the threat of the fall. I could live with that, before. I could live with that constant sense that my mind was full to the brim. I could live with the work, the pressure, the marking. And now I can’t.
Because my mind is filled with cries in the night, and grazes to kiss, and curls to brush, and lunches to make, and adventures to have, and autism to face, and little hands seeking mine in the darkness.
And I cannot, will not, let those things spill out when my mind is overflowing, when I stumble at that precipice. There are some lines that cannot be crossed. Some sacrifices that should not be made.
I will support my son for every second of every appointment, every therapy that he needs – and I will not feel one jot of guilt for being there with him, nowehere else. I will hold my daughter all day when she is poorly, stroke her hair, and I will not think for one second of a pile of books that I should be marking. I will not miss out on more than two and a half hours of my children’s laughs, sighs and cuddles, every day, while I queue on a dreary motorway.
But I will miss you. I will miss being a teacher. I will miss belonging to the club and wearing my thirteen years like a badge of honour. I will miss my pupils.
But that is not enough.
Maybe one day, it might work again. I hope it might. Until then, take care – fight against those who want to change you for the worse, those who would seek to divide you from the joy you should inspire. If I can return one day, I want to greet you like an old friend, not an unwelcome necessity. I hope you can understand.
All my love,
Soon-no-longer-to-be Someone’s Teacher.
For other posts about teaching, you may wish to read:
Teaching: a family unfriendly profession
and
Someone's Mum 
What a beautiful love letter to your family and your extended student family. The school community is losing a star obviously. But, there isn’t a better reason to say so long for now. Loved it.
We are on #BlogStars together this month from Prabs.
LikeLike
You are not giving up. It’s just a break. And the profession is becoming more and more demanding. It’s just ridiculous…When I left for my year off, I was so relieved to go. I am sure my situation is far from being as difficult as yours, but I am not looking forward to going back to school, even if I love teaching and the kids. I understand what you describe here. Good luck on your new journey! I am sure you will be fantastic!
LikeLike
So well written feel your pain but also your relief…May this be the best decision for you xx
LikeLike
This is such a familiar story and you have written this so well. I have known too many teachers break under the pressure of the job. It is very demanding. I used to teach whole classes then took time out for maternity leave. After that, I seriously considered never teaching again but luckily found a job teaching smaller groups/individuals. It suits me much better. There is always something that turns up to suit your needs at the time. I think you are doing the right thing for you and your family. You should never feel guilty for spending time with your own children. I hope you thoroughly enjoy every moment of your time away from teaching and that you are able to go back into it one day, if you decide that is the best thing for you.
LikeLike
Your eloquent letter makes me feel sad, but I am so glad that you are able to make a life choice that is right for you. I have been in this career for 40 years, and am nearing retirement. I am single, but the changes you mentioned in your earlier post about observations, testing, reductions in pay etc. all are true of my situation. I am actually looking forward to retirement so I can reclaim my life. I am single and a veteran teacher, but still need to spend hours writing lesson plans and I still stress about observations from administrators who don’t truly know me or appreciate the type of teaching I want to practice. At one time, not so long ago, teaching was truly my life, and now, I find I am eagerly anticipating walking away with little sadness and lots of terrific memories of an earlier time in my career when I felt I truly mattered. The stress is palpable, and I am getting no younger. I hope that one day, when the time is right, you will be able to return, but if not, your motherhood is the most important career of all. I wish you well.
LikeLike
beautifully written!
LikeLike
Having briefly been a teacher, I can relate! It was like having two full time jobs and I lost some of the best years of my children’s lives. I’ve given it up now to spend more time with them, as you’re doing.
LikeLike
I am walking away from teaching as well. And it is so hard to say goodbye. But I had already said goodbye over 20 years ago so I could stay at home and teach my own three children. I have never regretted that decision, but when I returned to teaching, this time at a private school, I was so overwhelmed by the increased demands and the over-the-top expectations, not to mention the encroachment of technology, that I stepped away. I am now, in my 60s, searching for a different occupation that doesn’t take over my whole life and won’t keep me awake at nights stressed out over all that is required and all I cannot possibly do for my students. I will miss working with children, but I have to choose mental health, physical health, and being available for my family. I wish you the best–you will love that you are going to spend the time with your own children.
LikeLike
I”m feeling exactly the same as you describe and was so relieved to read this update… as I too intend to do the same. Feeling a bit nervous, but also very relieved at finally being able to make this decision.
LikeLike
You are a wonderful writer! I read the previous post and I found myself thinking that you should quit and become a writer-then I read this one that you actually did quit. You will never regret making sacrifices to spend quality time with your children while they are young. Bravo for the courage because being a stay-at-home-mom isn’t exactly a picnic either! Lol! Both of my parents retired from the school district. My mom was a stay-at-home-mom until I was in 7th grade then went on to teach for 23 years. I know the sacrifices teachers make and I love and respect them so much. My great friend is a 3rd grade teacher in Compton, California here in the states and is the mother to 2 young kids and she struggles daily with not being enough for her students or children. Teachers do not get enough respect. Neither do mothers!!
LikeLike
Thank you. It may be a while since you wrote it but I feel the same and nice not to be alone in this. I hope it worked out for you. 😀
LikeLike
Good for you! I left 2 years ago after teaching for 20years. I wanted to take my little boy to school and be there for him at the end of the day and I didn’t want to spend all evening and weekend planning and marking. I Don’t regret it for a second, you will never get that precious time back with your little ones. Enjoy!
LikeLike