Blog #4: I did it… I left teaching.

So it’s finally sunk in.

As the new school year prepares to once again cycle around, it is time for a little update.

After five years in education, I decided to take a leave of absence. At first it felt unreal. Teaching is something I feel that I was called to do but in the words of Cookie Lyons, “I gotta put myself first Lucious!”

When I first started teaching as a substitute, I felt I had finally found my calling. Felt I had finally found my purpose in life; to teach kids and change the narrative of their school experiences. That idea is as important to me today as it was then and I’m proud to have been able to serve in that.

I never would have imagined that in my last year of earning my Bachelors degree in Business Management I would have found out that I actually wanted to teach. It happened upon me. Attending an HBCU and being surrounded by teachers who looked like me, understood my life experiences, gave me grace, but did NOT give me any excuses… it was life changing. It was in those moments that I realized how important it was to have someone you can truly relate to. I never cared during primary and secondary. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I loved learning. I always have. But I never cared for school because I didn’t feel as though anyone truly cared for me. Kids can always tell, you know. They can feel when people don’t like them or treat them as “others”. Justice as a kid is so linear that I knew I wasn’t getting what I needed but I never knew how to communicate it.

As a 23 year old, non-traditional college student, I felt I had figured out what was wrong with the education system: there wasn’t enough teachers that looked like me teaching kids like me.

Being someone who was always of the idea, do it myself to do it right, you can imagine how my life changed. My resolve was determined. I’ll become a teacher and change education for kids like I was.

Yeah, I’m laughing too.

I’ve had many ups and downs through this experience. From having my skin gouged out during student meltdowns to turning all of my students into published authors. I’ve literally given blood, sweat, and tears to this career path. Highlights include making a music video with my seventh grade Spanish students, getting a Las Vegas Raiders player to visit our school and speak to our third graders, making over 70% growth in my kids reading scores (a few times), moving one of my kids from a PK reading level to a 2nd grade reading level in just one year, transforming my classroom into a jungle via donations from my friends and family, turning my third, fourth, and fifth grade classes into published authors, working with Black and Brown youth across multiple states, and elevating my first fifth grade class to sixth grade.

Teaching has been so rewarding, fulfilling to my soul, and truly filled my cup. Even as my grandma died while I was student teaching and working on my Capstone, I had the dedication to serving my community's kids to get me out of bed every morning and keep me going.

So why am I leaving?

Because this job has also been the most depleting to my mental and physical health. Because this job is another avenue off of Wall Street. Because the political climate is more interested in stripping funding from kids for their own gain than being interested in the literacy rates of America’s children. Because I’m an Afro-Boricua woman in a country and world that unfortunately, will never fully respect her or treat her as worthy as she is.

I remember the first time I was told that “school is a business”. It shocked me. I was denied receiving Magna Cum Laude honors at my Alma Mater, Clark Atlanta University, because I hadn’t completed enough credits to qualify under the school’s requirements. Not a national requirement, a school requirement. “I’m a transfer student.” I replied. How can I possibly meet the credit requirements as a transfer student when I don’t need that many credits to complete my degree? The answer was that I hadn’t put in as much “blood, sweat, and tears” as the other students who had been going there the past four years. Eventually, I understood after the office lady told me I could take another semester instead of graduating to earn the honor. It wasn’t about credits. It was about money. “So what you’re saying is I have to pay more money in tuition to earn those extra credits even though I don’t need them in order to get the honor I deserve?” She replied, “Well, school is a business.” That was the beginning of my disappointment in the education system.

Since entering education, it has been my dedication and commitment to only work in Title 1 Schools: Schools that are full of lower-income families and tend to be under-resourced in support and money. These schools also tend to have the lowest literacy rates (per opportunity gaps) and the most behavioral hurdles (its hard to behave when you’re just trying to survive). It hasn’t been easy. I’ve worked with 8th graders reading at a third grade level, students who didn’t believe they’d ever be able to graduate even though they wanted to, a class with four students who spoke no English with no ESL teacher, large class sizes (28-35 students), several IEP and 504 students woefully neglected by the education system, foster kids navigating through an entirely different system, CPS calls for students who reeked daily of animal pee (mandated reporter), thrown chairs, explosive tantrums, rooms trashed, teachers dragging kids across the floors, and many, many tears.

But it wasn’t the kids that was the most challenging. It’s been the state of education in America. The lack of resources that are still currently being stripped away by this administration. I remember saying during my masters program that I’d never get caught up in the politics of education. How laughable that was. To be educated is radical. To educate is radical. Every move you make, every top down decision, every student placed in your classroom is there by political and systemic design.

I’ve dealt with White teachers who felt they could “son” me in my own classroom just cause they were veterans. I’ve dealt with racist administration questioning my teaching skills because it wasn’t robot like how they wanted. That same administration questioning the integrity of my students test scores because it was “too” high for my teaching style (gag is, I wasn’t even there the day they tested my students). Racist administration constantly visiting my classroom to later berate me. Administration threatening to keep eyes on me once I left the school. Administration telling me that there was no point to a library field trip because “our students can’t afford to make it there” and telling me they’d fail their tests regardless because of their low IQ’s (our school was mostly Hispanic/Latino by the way).

I’ve dealt with districts conning me out of my hard-earned and deserved money. $20k from one district after they decided to change their verbal agreements (that was my bad for not knowing I needed to have EVERYTHING in writing) and then schools trying to cheat me out of my salary simply because they could (I advocated for myself and got my pay). Horrible health insurance in one district because they couldn’t conduct business well, which resulted in me being charged hundreds of dollars and having to fight to have it paid. Being surplussed from schools that couldn’t afford to keep me anymore (lowest seniority) even though that same district paid out a superintendent $600k to leave (but couldn’t afford to pay it’s teachers).

And don’t even get me started on the constant babying and savior complexes when it comes to Black and Brown kids. That on top of this age of “gentle” teaching that leaves kids with no grasp on empathy or accountability. Trauma comparing. Focus on testing rather than skills. Focus on experience rather than learning. . . and so much more, y’all. It’s exhausting.

After five years, I am depleted. The real: I’ve gained 30lbs since being in this profession. I’ve had so many health hiccups. Pinched nerves. Dead arms. High anxiety resulting in dizzy spells. Worsened OCD symptoms. Infections. Colds. Depression. No time or energy for myself or others. No motivation to be active once out of work. Consistent and persistent migraines. High blood pressure. Worsened teeth grinding at night. Nightmares about my job and students.

Trying to maintain friendships, and family relationships, and personal love relationships has been nearly impossible. Trying to write my book has been impossible. Trying to love myself and devote time to myself has been impossible. Even on breaks when I should have been relaxing, I was working, planning, or trying to catch up on sleep and rest. I’ve lived a lot of life in my bed these past five years.

Finally, I’ve decided to take a chance on myself. I’ve decided to get back to me.

At the beginning of this school year, I had my kids dream. I shared with them that I never really dreamed for myself. Every dream I had was with the goal of making enough money to get my family out of struggle and poverty. Sure, I had things I loved to do and hobbies. But I never had a dream that was just mine and no one else’s. Never a dream that was just for me. I wanted my kids to dream beyond their struggle; and this was hard for some. I still had students that chose careers that would financially alleviate burden to their families but after talking one-on-one, we figured it out. I’ve always been a firm believer that I’m not going to ask my students to complete a project or work assignment I wouldn’t do myself. So, of course, I also dreamed. I drew a photo of me as a published and best-selling author.

I won’t say that I’ll never return to teaching or education. I’m good at it. I love it. It makes me happy to teach kids, watch them learn, see them blossom, and also learn from them.

But for right now, this next phase in my life is for me. This is the moment to take a chance on myself. To follow my dreams. To chase them with every bit of energy I have. It’s also the time for me to care for myself. To find myself again. To find my voice again outside of the classroom. To reset, refocus, and reclaim my energy and happiness.

I’m ready… so stay tuned.

Thalia, out. ✌️