Normally when I blog, I talk about things in a more vague, broad nature---life, love, relationships, etc. But, something spoke to my heart in a way that can't be blanketed, that must be expressed exactly in the way I feel about it.
I am really broken up about leaving my job. It really hurts me to my core to have to come to terms with leaving these children and this environment that I have grown to love. I was on an interview today, and when I was asked about myself and the work that I do, the interviewer noted how brightly I responded about the work being done with my kids and how much I enjoy working where I do and doing what I do. That's when it really hit me: I totally do not feel ready to go. When asked by others why I'm looking, I can come up with tons of PC reasons: I need a change; ready to move on; even location. Fact is none of that is true. I would stay another 3 years. For the salary they hired me on, too. But, it's not up to me. I have to leave because the administration doesn't like me. It's seems childish yet adult at the exact same time: you have to be able to play The Game sometimes. Instead of being valued as a qualified adult and asked to speak my mind, I am supposed to grin and bear it and fall in line with the more "liked" people. It absolutely feels like not only working in high school but being high school, where you get the highest praise and the most reward for following the popular crowd. You get the "in" but instead of being at parties and sitting at the cool lunch table, you get to have your opinion be valued and play a bigger role in the work being done for the students and the school. While others are coddled and swathed in the cover of immunity, I am on the outside looking in at the chosen ones as they are allowed to blaze their own paths. It's painful to watch, but not for the humanistic primal reasons one might think (although they are there, too), but because it's so tough to stifle your passion for something you have wanted to do for so long. It's hard to have to smile through the pain of not being treated equal to others based on a difference in personality. It's hard to see others rewarded while you are continuously pushed further and further into a corner. How ironic is it that I have to sit in all these "team" meetings (Social Work, Intervention, Be the Change, High School, etc.) and yet I feel like the unwanted member of the squad. You tell me one athlete who feels supported and united with the team when their coach and GM are always doubting their performance and constantly threatening to cut them. I couldn't think of anyone who would feel welcomed in an environment like that. Real teams support each other, and work together for the greater good. It's even tougher when your passion for this work is so palpable, and everything you are attempting to do is not only to be successful as a professional, but be successful for the students.
I am really broken up about leaving my job. It really hurts me to my core to have to come to terms with leaving these children and this environment that I have grown to love. I was on an interview today, and when I was asked about myself and the work that I do, the interviewer noted how brightly I responded about the work being done with my kids and how much I enjoy working where I do and doing what I do. That's when it really hit me: I totally do not feel ready to go. When asked by others why I'm looking, I can come up with tons of PC reasons: I need a change; ready to move on; even location. Fact is none of that is true. I would stay another 3 years. For the salary they hired me on, too. But, it's not up to me. I have to leave because the administration doesn't like me. It's seems childish yet adult at the exact same time: you have to be able to play The Game sometimes. Instead of being valued as a qualified adult and asked to speak my mind, I am supposed to grin and bear it and fall in line with the more "liked" people. It absolutely feels like not only working in high school but being high school, where you get the highest praise and the most reward for following the popular crowd. You get the "in" but instead of being at parties and sitting at the cool lunch table, you get to have your opinion be valued and play a bigger role in the work being done for the students and the school. While others are coddled and swathed in the cover of immunity, I am on the outside looking in at the chosen ones as they are allowed to blaze their own paths. It's painful to watch, but not for the humanistic primal reasons one might think (although they are there, too), but because it's so tough to stifle your passion for something you have wanted to do for so long. It's hard to have to smile through the pain of not being treated equal to others based on a difference in personality. It's hard to see others rewarded while you are continuously pushed further and further into a corner. How ironic is it that I have to sit in all these "team" meetings (Social Work, Intervention, Be the Change, High School, etc.) and yet I feel like the unwanted member of the squad. You tell me one athlete who feels supported and united with the team when their coach and GM are always doubting their performance and constantly threatening to cut them. I couldn't think of anyone who would feel welcomed in an environment like that. Real teams support each other, and work together for the greater good. It's even tougher when your passion for this work is so palpable, and everything you are attempting to do is not only to be successful as a professional, but be successful for the students.
This whole experience makes not only my work suffer, but my own personal worth takes a hit as well. How could I possibly be good at what I do if no one at my job thinks so? If the person hired to supervise me and the person who hired me sees these things, surely I must not be seeing what they do. I must suck! Having to confront that while still looking my students in the eye and teaching them life skills was enough to drive me to start sending out my resume. But, going through the experience of leaving my kids forces me to teach them one of the biggest life lessons of all: change is constant, and it doesn't have to be scary, easy, or bad. It can be a new beginning. Being forced to step out into a new path can actually be just what my spirit needed: a wake up call, a reminder to face another challenge to prove how strong I really am.
So, even though it brings me to tears to think about missing my babies' continued college acceptance letters, helping with their fundraising activities, planning and attending their senior trip and prom and seeing them all on that stage at graduation, I know the best lesson I can teach them is to not be bitter, not hold grudges, and don't be angry, but to be grateful for everything that brought us to that moment, and be proud of the work that was already done. Because when the tears dry and the pain of loss fades, the good memories live on. To my class of 2014, and to my class of 2012, my sour patch babies, I love you.
I love you Tamika. This really touched me! I wish you the best on your new path. You'll never know how much impact you have had on my life. You inspire me beyond words. I'm applying for upper division and I'm mentioning in my application how much that summer changed my life. Keep on keeping on'
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