Hello,
If you had asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, from my earliest age, I would have said, “ballerina.” There's some irony in this now because I don’t have rhythm and don’t dance. Around fifth grade, I decided I didn’t like being in a leotard in front of other people—which is to say I became self-conscious. So, I decided I wanted to be an actress. After a while, I realized I preferred being myself rather than pretending to be someone else, so I decided I wanted to be a writer. With that in mind, I went to college to get a degree in English. If I had it my way, I would have refined that even more and pursued a degree in writing—probably creative writing—but that wasn’t an option. Looking back now, I realize I’m not great at crafting fictional stories, but I didn’t know that then.
No matter how you sliced it, being a teacher was something I opposed. With embarrassment, I admit that I looked at my teachers and thought, “You can teach, but you can’t get paid to do what you’re teaching.” I had internalized the abhorrent cliche, “Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.” I am not proud of this.
So, how did I become a teacher? Well, I knew I wasn’t going to graduate from college and become a well-paid, famous author overnight, and I didn’t want to live with my parents for the rest of my life, so teaching was my backup plan. This is similar, I suppose, to actors who work as waiters or waitresses during the day to pay the bills.
I was so nervous going into my student teaching semester. I thought, “I don’t like kids” (though I was only twenty) and “I don’t like getting up early,” which is still true (but most jobs require that anyway). Fortunately, my cooperating teacher in my first placement, Dee Schwartz, loved teaching. She was amazing and showed me that the things I love to do—like reading, writing, and talking to people about reading and writing—were things that English teachers got paid to do! Dee was a gift not just to her students and the school, but to me. My second cooperating teacher was not nearly as enthusiastic or passionate about teaching. If my second placement had been first, I might have felt validated by her demeanor and determined that teaching wasn’t for me. Luckily that was not the case.
That said, my first year of teaching was filled with tears and doubt. I enrolled full-time in grad school because I didn’t land a job. By the end of August, however, I was offered a long-term sub position as a seventh-grade ELA teacher for half of the year. Going to school and working full-time was exceptionally difficult. Both were new, and both required so much. I was fortunate to land a second long-term position for the second half of the year and continued going to school full-time. It is not hyperbole to say that I cried every weekend because I was drowning in work. Grading essays is hard enough. Writing essays myself is hard enough. Doing both while also writing lesson plans and navigating my first year nearly took me out.
I am happy to say that I persisted. After that first year, I landed a tenure-track position in a district and completed my Master’s degree. I got married, started working on my administrative certification, and fast forward—this year marks my Silver Jubilee, a.k.a my 25th anniversary in education. This past year I have begun saying I started my career at the turn of the century. If I had it to do all over again, there are definitely things I would do differently. This doesn’t mean I have regrets—it means I have learned. I am not ashamed of this; I am proud.
I’m sharing my journey because being an educator isn’t easy. It is a profession steeped in tradition, and it is a profession that is ever-changing. It is a profession that is on display for everyone to see, yet like a magician, the best teachers make it look easy. It’s a profession that everyone has experience with as a student, and like parenting, you don’t know how hard it is until you try to do it yourself. The government wants to tell you how to do your job. Parents want to tell you how to do your job. And, while there is a science to teaching, it is also an art. Educators need to get paid (and should be paid well), but like doctors and firefighters, educators are service providers who are shamed for saying that they should be paid more.
Teaching is more than just a profession; it’s a journey filled with unexpected turns, challenges, and profound rewards. Whether you’re an educator or not, the core of this story is about resilience, growth, and finding purpose in unexpected places. For those who may feel overwhelmed in their current roles—whether as teachers or in any demanding job—know that doubt and struggle are part of the process. What matters most is persistence and the willingness to learn from every experience, no matter how tough it may seem.
To non-educators, I hope this sheds light on the dedication and passion behind the scenes of a profession that touches every life. And to my fellow educators, especially those who might be questioning their path, remember that the impact you have is immeasurable. Even on the hardest days, know that your work is shaping the future in ways that are both seen and unseen. Embrace the challenges, trust in your growth, and take pride in the incredible service you provide.
~Heather
P.S. In honor of the 25th anniversary of this century, I have two Catches of the Week. The first is this link to HistoryCentral.com’s “Major Events in American History in the 21st Century,” and the second is this video from Google about the most searched items over the past 25 years. Here’s hoping the next 25 years are even better!
P.P.S. Please remember to...
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Heather, like you, I started my career at the turn of the century. While my first year wasn’t as stressful I certainly have had many ups and downs. Yes, the landscape of education has changed a lot in these years. We are those who have persisted despite these changes and career ups & downs.