I love teaching (and that is why I am leaving).
I look back on my time as a classroom teacher fondly and often think I had the best job in the world. I got to spend each day with energetic young people who made me laugh, taught me a lot and kept me on my toes. I saw my teaching role as one of building classroom culture, facilitating a safe environment where learning can happen and often being one of the most consistent adults in a young person’s life.
For me, a good lesson got me in a state of flow. Teaching takes full presence. I remember having bad days, waking up in a bad mood, having a disagreement with a partner or worrying about an unwell loved one, but then I would enter the classroom and I’d leave it all behind. I’d lose myself in the energy of the room, orchestrating the atmosphere and sharing in the magic of learning. A bad lesson, was a challenge I was eager to conquer. I often spent months implementing routines with a class group, sitting in absolute discomfort knowing that it would pay off in the end. Teaching in Alternative schools taught me to get comfortable with being uncomfortable.
The wins in the classroom counteracted the loses. For every joke shared, smile exchanged or problem solved fuelled me. It buffered against the criticised lessons, the child protection notifications and the dysregulated breakdowns.
I thought I would teach forever.
When I stepped into leadership, it was with reluctance. There was a selfish part of me that wanted to keep teaching, to keep having fun in the classroom and to play an important role for a small group of young people. But, there was also the leader within me who couldn’t fight the urge to speak up, to look for ways our schools could improve, to push for change and to ensure that more young people have access to quality education. So, I did it. My role became less about my time with the young people and more about supporting teachers so their time with the young people could make a difference.
“We need to remember to support the potent leaders in our teams, the frontline workers. Those greeting children at the front gate at school, those sitting with families when they are at their most vulnerable and those staff putting kids to bed at night.” (Robyn Miller, CEO of MacKillop Family Services).
Closing this chapter
In 2022 the education system has reached a breaking point. Let’s call it for what it is- the system is in a crisis. Teachers are resigning at a rapid rate, those staying are burning out and throw in the fire the fact that our young people are re-learning how to navigate the social climate after lengthy lockdowns. Right now, as a leader, I feel like I’m like a violinist on the titanic. Keeping some calm in the chaos, but not really doing much to prevent the ship from sinking.
So yes, I am leaving too, but I am nowhere near done working in education. It’s time for me to jump off and focus on prevention. I want to redesign the ship so it can weather the storm, handle the iceberg and still have the necessary lifeboats aboard (you know, “just in case").
To our teachers (our potent leaders)- Thank You! Thank you for showing up and doing this important work. I look forward to quietly working alongside you, chipping away at the system in the background.
Megan
