(Yes, I am fully aware that this picture is silly looking. And that I look slightly bald. And that I'm cheesin' for the camera. However, this is how I look about 90% of the time, so let's just go with it, mkay?)
In case you're just tuning in, I quit my job.
I will in fact NOT be returning to the classroom this year as a high school English teacher. I'm not cleaning my classroom this week or having lunch with my friends.
I'm not picking out a back-to-school outfit or stressing over summer reading tests.
I'm not sitting in meetings with the principal or arranging my desks in perfect little rows.
And I'm happy about it.
Yes, I will miss some things about teaching, but I can honestly say that if I had committed to teach again this year, it have been a mistake. It's not what I'm supposed to do right now. I have no regrets. I don't regret changing my major one semester shy of graduating with a degree in public relations
so that I could instead teach high school English,
and I certainly don't regret spending eight years with some of the most amazing kiddos ever.
But, no more high school for me; no more teaching.
And while I'm ever so happy about my decision to pursue other options, I tend to get mixed responses from those around me. Some people think I'm crazy. Jobs are hard to come by these days, I have one, and therefore I should keep it. Also, I don't hate teaching and my students always have great test scores, but does that mean I'm in the right spot? I also paint well and make good cake batter dip, does that mean I should pursue those professionally? I don't think that just because we're good at something that automatically means it's what's best for us.
Others think I'm brave.
I think more people than will admit wish they could try something new.
I barely knew who I was at twenty-two, much less who I'd want to one day become.
I think I'm a little bit of both.
There are days when I am completely confident, and other days where I'm afraid about starting over. I do know this much: teaching another year would have been easy, but it would have been wrong. I am certain God has something else in store for me. But I'd be lying if I said the waiting isn't making me a tad bit anxious and causing me to do terrible things to my nails. I've applied a few places and made a few calls, but I can honestly say that I'm not quite sure I've found it just yet. Until then, I'll continue to go round and round and up and down, teetering somewhere between confident and concerned, certain and uncertain, patient and not so patient at all, and trying desperately not to jump every time the phone rings or to check my email every ten minutes.
My motto these days: