That is the question. I’m a licensed ELA teacher, working in the upper Midwest. (That’s the closest-location-wise that I’m going to give out to the blog-o-sphere. Sorry, not here to spoil personal secrets with y’all.)
I’ve worked primarily with middle school aged students and at charter schools. I’ve worked in district schools. I’ve worked abroad.
So when I say staying a teacher is the hardest personal goal I’ve set for myself, I speak with breath and depth.
Notice too that I said”staying” a teacher rather than “becoming” one.
The journey to this point has been long and marked with detours, potholes, giant mountains, flooded roads and road ends here signs.
There have been devestating endings and treasured beginnings. I’ve started and stopped my career multiple times. I’ve layed tracks I had to quickly pick up again and set once more in a parallel course.
Those are my metaphors. I think I’ve used pleanty of broad strokes. Now it’s time to scetch some details.
I’ve been hospitalized for my mental health twice. I probably needed hospitalization 3 more times. Work and teaching have been the loudest contributing factors that have lead to a deterorated mental state.
Today, I want to talk about the silent snipers. The slow gathering of thought and behavior patterns that lead to a breakdown. They’ve always been there and they make themselves known in the form of ADHD and BPD. (If you’re curious about these diagnosises, look them up. This is not a medical blog. Nor do I want it to become one.) They’re shaddows that follow every move I make; fading in the sunlight. They impact productivity, relationships, prioritization, perception, worth, and objectivity. These conditions have made teaching a near-impossible task.
I return to teaching, continue this bolder of a task-again and again. Stop, start. Stop, start. Stop, start again. Why?
I’m magnetically pulled to it. I’m ignited when I’m in the classroom. I enjoy making things to be used by students. The projects they create delight me.
Yet the day upon day, upon day accumulation of inner doubt, avoidance, and deception lengthen my shaddow and trick me. I belive, then, I’m not enough. I’ll never be enough. They don’t need me anyway.
I push even harder, and then break. This summer, I have stopped the spinning long enough to see the black and white patterens that have populated my life. “He loves me, I hate him.” “I’m terrible. Nobody would want me anyway.” “I’m doing great! This is the best job ever!” In the mental health world, this is what they call “splitting”. For me, it’s what role do I play for myself? Hero or victim?
I’ve been living the various shades of grey for a while now. Unfortunately, not back to the same role. I’m a building substitute this year. With all the connotations of complicated emotions backed inside of it.
I realized how much I love teaching. I am on meds that for the first time treat all of my intricate and rare head-programming. And yes, I am in therapy. I’m in a healthy relationship that stirs me.
Changes in my school environment have prompeted me to ask this question of myself again. And I’ve answered in the affirmative.
I’m seeking a position that uses my experience, expertise, and passion.
Am I any less afraid than I have been of being triggered into a backslide? Aren’t I worried that it will be too much and have to stop? I’ll cross that bridge when the road leads there.
For once in my life, I’m confident that it won’t. Something in me has slotted into place. Now, I’m beginning to see the bigger picture. I can’t grow until I take the next step forward. The beginning of the year has proved that I can work in a busy school environment. And that I can look ahead for my career with a whole mind and heart.
The hardest personal goal is maintaining a balanced life while teaching. And this is something I’m working towards now, and I will probably will be working on it for a long time in the future.
Danielle Koch 