Why I Left Teaching: The Job That Broke My Heart

For me, teachingwas a love affair that turned sour. I know I can never go back to how it was inthose first, heady days.I don’t teachany more, but I think at heart I will always be a teacher. There is somethingabout the profession that gets into your blood. Teaching was like a love affairfor me. But it was a romance which turned sour; ultimately, it broke me.Teaching: My First LoveIt started out,as many love affairs do, as a heady rush of infatuation. I remember the firstday I spent in a classroom. It was intoxicating. I loved the pace of it all,the switch from topic to topic, meeting so many new students, covering so manydifferent plays, poetry and books. I was passionate about my subject and theopportunity to share that was amazing. I can honestly say that I felt euphoricthat first evening; I felt I had found my dream job.Comfortable CoupledomAs I settledinto the role, of course, some of that euphoria wore off. I came to discoverteaching’s faults: the long hours, the difficult students, the impossible pilesof marking. But still, I loved it. I saw the problems, and I didn’t mind them.Teaching and I became a comfortable couple; we muddled along happily. Iremember one day, in those first few years, driving along the country lanes onthe way to work and thinking I am happy.This is where I am meant to be. The fireworks had gone, but therelationship was still strong. I loved teaching.The Cracks Begin to ShowI’m not surewhere it all started to go wrong. Perhaps it was a particularly tricky classone year. Or maybe it was the student who threw a bin at me. Or perhaps it wasthe change in marking policy for what felt like the hundredth time. Whatever itwas, I slowly realised that I wasn’t as happy as I had been. The balance hadbeen tipped: the faults of the profession seemed to outweigh the benefits. Andworse, I felt exhausted. Exhaustedfrom trying to make it work, from attempting to be better. But of course, as alwayshappens in relationships, I didn’t realise what was going on. I thought thetrouble was with me.The EndFinally, I wokeup one morning and realised I was no longer in love. Worse, I felt I hadstarted to resent my relationship with teaching. I felt I was part of a systemwhich wanted to constantly tell me how I was failing, that wanted me to careabout all 150 students I taught as if they were my own children, that demandedI split myself into a thousand tiny pieces to ensure everyone got something fromme. And I couldn’t do it any more. I was broken. What was worse, I had become abad teacher; I was grumpy, irritable, tired. The passion had gone.Leaving seemedimpossible; I couldn’t get out. And so I spent some months on the treadmillfeeling trapped, isolated, desperate. I was in hell.It took a while,but slowly friends and family convinced me that I could do this; I couldescape. And, eventually, I did.RecoveryIt takes time to get over a broken heart, and it took time for me to recover from teaching. I still miss it: there is an ache in my chest when I remember those heady days in the classroom. I remember the fun, the passion, the excitement of it all. But then I remember what that became, and I know I can never go back. I will always love teaching, but we can never be together again.Subscribe to Beyond for access to thousands of secondary teaching resources. You can sign up for a free account here and take a look around at our free resources before you subscribe too.You might also want to read:Teacher Mental Health: Reactive, not Proactive

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Why I Left Teaching: The Job That Broke My Heart

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