I may just be one of the lucky ones. I have found my life’s passion and career in one. I feel like teaching is exactly why I was put on this Earth. For as long as I can remember, I wanted to grow up and be a teacher. In teaching I am in my element. I find so much joy in helping kids grow, in mending their sometimes broken spirits, and in being the shaper of little lives. The near miracle is that I can spend the rest of my life making a living off of this purpose. I am so lucky.
And yet, I am sitting here writing 9 months after being out of the classroom. 9 months away from the career in which I found myself.
On my very last day of the school year, I was asked to step out of my second home for a different position. After many thought provoking and trying weeks, I accepted a position as a literacy coach. It was such an honor to be asked. With just 3 years in the classroom, others saw my potential. In many ways it was a promotion, a step up the ladder, something so incredibly rare in teaching.
But today, my heart aches to get my second home, my family of 20 little souls back. It seems wrong to give up something I was so lucky to have found. Coaching is great. My influence goes beyond the students and families I get to call mine for 180 days. I ask the difficult questions to my superiors without fear. I can feel us ever so slowly breaking away the traditional foundation our education system has been resting on for hundreds of years. I am learning so much from others and there are even a few days when i think maybe I’m teaching my teachers a little something too.
But, it still just doesn’t compare. When I left the classroom, colleagues chuckled saying I’d never go back to the classroom, but there hasn’t been a single day as a coach, be it my best or my worst, that I’ve considered anything else. It’s now only the decision of when. I want to be fair to my new school and give them the time they deserve and worry a year won’t do the position justice. I don’t want my substitute to settle in my room until one day I pull the rug out from under her feet. I worry about the impact a single year in a position could make to my resume and reputation in the district. Above all else, I worry about the students I am missing, the ones I will never get back, and all the missed opportunities to work with them.
The year is coming to an end. Big decisions lie ahead.