Releasing the Notes

I quit.

Officially.

Last February, I put in my resignation at the school I was working in.

Putting in my resignation was such an interesting experience. My school district would send out an email asking about our plans for the next year, whether we were planning on working next school year or not. I had always put off my response until the deadline (or even after the deadline on a few occasions) as I wrestled with my desire to leave. Then I would mark the box saying I would return, and resign myself to another year.

Finally having the courage to mark the box about leaving was so exhilarating! When I call it courage, I really mean that. It took a decade of feeling so amazingly unfulfilled and just as long trying everything to change that, that the feeling of saying “no more” was transcendental.

And also terrifying. Part of the reason I had put off leaving for so long was the paycheck. That sounds empty, and everything that the media tells us about teachers flies right in the face of that statement. Teachers are notoriously underpaid. That is why teachers are told the pithy statements that are supposed to make us want to stay-

“Teachers aren’t in it for the income, they are in it for the outcome!”

“I’m a teacher, what is your superpower?”

“It takes a big heart to teach little minds!”

Or the one I received the most of in my last few years when I was the art teacher-

“Teaching is a work of heart!”

I absolutely hate these! They are patronizing. Please stop giving teachers these. I felt more appreciated with a can of soda or a treat from a student than with a beautifully framed printout of one of these sayings.

There have been times I smiled and graciously accepted a mug with an altered superman logo (change the S to a T and it is for teachers being superheroes, get it??) only to launch the cup into the nearest dumpster as soon as it was safe.

On a side note, the mug I displayed for years on my desk was amazing.

You can tell from the wear and tear (and the paint splatters) that I loved it. I will include a link here for a similar Goodest Teacher mug if you want to get one for your kid’s teacher. This is an amazon affiliate link, so I will get a commission on any purchase.

Anyways, back to the topic at hand, leaving teaching was terrifying, because that paycheck, as much as I wish it was larger, was steady. I could count on it month after month. My wife and I had been able to plan and budget based around that steady paycheck. Now, as I left to be a writer, that paycheck would disappear, and we wouldn’t know what to really expect for the next few years.

When I checked that box, I was immediately sent another email from the district. When I opened it, I almost laughed. It was the exact same questionnaire I had just returned, except at the top it had a statement that boiled down to this:

Just to make sure that wasn’t an accident, click the box again.

It took a lot less courage to click it a second time. Or to fill out the paper giving them my reasons for leaving. They gave me multiple chances to stay, and each time it got easier to say no.

The rest of the school year was an absolute dumpster fire, with protests and national news attention, bomb threats, and a major lack of support from any of our higher-ups, other than a handful of printed pithy statements in fancy frames. Each day seemed to affirm my decision to leave.

I had two countdowns – the amount of school days left, and the amount of sick leave and personal days I had. It was a freeing day when the first number became smaller than the second, knowing that I could just leave at any point. I didn’t, however, because, you know, ethics. But I could have.

So I am done. I left the band.

Time to go solo.