Hitting the Reset Button Part II: Teaching

After our first child was born, I knew I was going to have to do some re-prioritizing and remove some hobbies out of my hectic schedule.  I feel like I was reasonable and proactive about it, and joked with my husband after the process that, "Well, all I have left now is the pageant and my job...hopefully they will be enough to keep me busy!"  Fast forward to three years later, and it turns out that both are now elements of my past, and looking forward I have an incredibly new, exciting, and somewhat terrifying chapter ahead of me.  Being a full-time mom.

Losing two things that were so instrumental to building my current identity in such a short order was a bit of a shock, but one that I was able to manage in bite-size pieces, and handle as well as one could be expected to handle it.  Being that I can't do either justice in just one post, I figured I would separate my thoughts in parting with two of the greatest passions I have had the pleasure of pursuing.  I give you Part II: The Best Teaching Gig Ever.

I'll try to spare you the length of the last post, since this one is a bit shorter portion of my life.  10 years of investment in teaching, rather than 15, but who's counting?  Starting at the end, once again, seems to make the most sense.

I left my job.  It's not something I planned on doing, and honestly, was not even something I wanted to do.  Like, remotely wanted even.  It just sort of happened.  Most moms-to-be have their career paths a little more well thought out than a spontaneous "I think I'm going to leave my job" moment, but that's really how it happened.  It was a realization that I came to some time in mid-April of this year, and it was hands down the most difficult decision I've ever made in my 32 years of existence.  Thankfully, we are in a position financially where this was an option for me, otherwise it wouldn't have even been a consideration, so I am truly blessed to have the luxury of making a choice, don't get me wrong.  It just, much like some of my pageant journey, wasn't part of "the plan".

10 years ago I started long term subbing at General Brown, but ultimately, I was the full time teacher for that year, even though it wasn't reflected financially or on paper.  I started in September, and ended in June, and fulfilled all the obligations of a full-time employee...and then some.  At this time, I was fresh out of college, 22 years old, and living at home with my parents, so it wasn't unusual for me to prefer spending my hours in "my" classroom revamping and inventing the program of my dreams.  It was my hope that I would be hired full-time the next year, so I invested a lot of time scrapping basically the entire curriculum, and building anew.  I was young, energetic, and desperate to fill my time with anything but going home.

It took a few years for me to find my stride, and to find the teaching style that was both effective for my students, and an accurate reflection of who I was fundamentally.  By around year 3-4, I had pretty much figured out what I wanted my classroom environment to feel like, and each year it got a bit more cozy and family-like.  I won't lie, we had our share of drama and ups and downs in the classroom environment, but it was starting to feel more and more like home.  Strangely enough, the more time I invested in my program, the better I felt about it.  Funny how there's a parallel there, huh?

Suffice it to say by year ten I was feeling very comfortable, and while I was still investing in my program, it was able to run a bit more like the well oiled machine I envisioned it being.  I had proposed new courses, and had basically every vocal teacher's dream: no general music.  I had really fun electives which students chose to be a part of, so there was little to no negotiating to get students interested in the content.  The spark of interest was already there.  I loved my schedule.  I loved my colleagues.  I really enjoyed my administrators and was starting to get more involved with professional commitments.  I adored my students and what we were able to share with each other.

This is where you ask, "Ummm, so why did you give it up?".  That's a difficult question to answer simply, and it was one that I had difficulty sharing with my students when the time came.  I felt like I was at the peak of my professional game, and now was the time for me to leave?  Really?

Well, yes.  The best way I could simply state it was this: "If it were easy to walk away, I should have done it a long time ago."  As a 22 year old, I was on top of the world and had nothing but time to devote to my students.  I had ambitions, a timeline, new ideas, and creative ways to implement those ideas.  Fast forward to 32 year old me with a husband and two children (and a very needy cat).  I had built a program that couldn't be sustained by this new me, and I neglected to see it coming.  Not only that, but I tried with one child, and noticed how badly my family dynamic suffered.  Furthermore, I ignored it, and continued to be happily married to my job as if nothing was wrong, but deep down I knew there was a problem.

Don't get me wrong, if you know my oldest cherub, she is one happy little bugger.  She has thrived these past three years, because we have had SO much support from my mom, mother-in-law, stepmother-in-law, and sister-in-law.  In fact, that's one of the reasons that made it so difficult to acknowledge the issue: she was being raised SO WELL by four super-moms, why on earth would I want to step in and ruin it?  This was not an overt thought of mine, but I would be lying if I said it wasn't rolling around in the back of my head somewhere.

So: dream job, one kid, head barely above water.  We're doing okay.  What about hypothetical baby Willis #2?  My husband and I talked A LOT, and for a very long time, about whether or not it was a good idea to even consider procreating again, and one of the stipulations we had was that I wouldn't give up my job if we were to have a second child.  So, you can imagine my shock when I ultimately decided that leaving my job was the only choice I really had.  Not only that, but since the epiphany didn't come to me until mid-April, I was already promising my students and colleagues things that I wasn't going to be able to deliver the next year.  Good job, me.

I'm a pretty spiritual person, and if you haven't realized this about me yet let me fill you in: I firmly believe that God has a plan for everyone.  I am beyond blessed in my life, and I feel like part of that is because I have complete faith that I will be guided in the right direction.  Sometimes it's not a direction I envision myself taking, but I have trusted for a long time that my path isn't always the one I choose for myself and it has yet to lead me astray so I'm just going to keep going with it, as silly as it may sound to some.  So, when the option of staying at home presented itself, it makes sense that I would react calmly and just trust what's ultimately best.

Well, I didn't.

I cried.  I screamed.  I had horrible tear stains on my dress.  I verbally rationalized (at a rather loud dynamic level) all the reasons why I had to stay at my job, and all of the ways around this option that I had promised myself I would never, ever entertain the idea of.  I was super immature about it, and even as the angry words and suggestions poured from my mouth, I was annoyed with how selfish all of the reasons sounded.  I loved MY job.  I worked so hard to build MY program.  MY students needed ME.  MY job was a huge part of MY identity.  This isn't what I envisioned for MYSELF.  You get the picture.  To quote my brother-in-law as he lovingly mocks my profession,  "me me me".

Thankfully, I had to pull myself together because we were about to visit family in Canada for the weekend, and once again what I wanted didn't happen, and what did happen was for the best.  My husband had to leave to play a gig, and I was left without the ability to contact him overnight (despite the close proximity, Canada is in fact another country), which gave me the opportunity to think.  And silently cry.  And think some more.

I weighed the options, took many steps back, and looked at the big picture.  I also went to church like, five times in seven days because it was Holy Week, and that gave me tons of clarity and perspective.  If that wasn't enough, Delilah sealed my fate.  Yes, I'm talking about the cheesy, romantic evening radio program.  A woman called in and her name was Corinne.  Not a perfect match, but it got my attention.  She requested a song (I think Delilah ended up playing "Crazy for You" by Madonna) for her husband because she loved him so much and he was the best and blah blah...you get the idea.  She went on to say, though, that he was incredibly supportive, and worked so hard in his job to ensure that she could stay home and raise their children.  Again, I know this sounds ridiculously stupid to some, but if this was not a sign that I was making the right choice, I really don't know what is.  (Although to be perfectly honest, I hate that song.  That's neither here nor there, though.)

So, there it is.  Now I just have to tell my boss.  And my boss's boss.  And my students.  Good Lord, my precious babies whom I love so dearly.  It felt like initiating an amicable, yet undesirable breakup.  "Hey, we both know this just isn't going to work out in the future.  I wish you the best, but I have to go my own way now.  You can keep the sofa, but I am taking the dining set.  Peace."  Needless to say, lots of ugly crying went down with my boss.  And a good amount with my boss' boss.  And with my students.  There may have been sunglasses and a box of tissues on hand while I presented a 22 slide PowerPoint, because there's no way I could have verbalized it.  I also care about them so much, and really wanted them to understand why I made this decision.

Have I mentioned yet my amazing colleagues?  Two of whom are my best friends and have been with me from the beginning.  I imagined retiring alongside them in this district that I loved working in, and now that wasn't going to be a likely reality anymore.  I talked to them first (lots of tears, of course.  I was also pregnant and slightly hormonal, before you think I'm a total emotional basket case) and explained my rationale.  I didn't need to.  They are moms, and they totally understood.  In fact, literally everyone I spoke to understood and, most said something like "You won't regret doing this", "I did the same thing and wouldn't have changed a thing", or "I wish I had that option.  I would take it in a heartbeat."  More affirmation, although I knew I didn't really need it.

Even my students showed the utmost maturity and understanding after I dropped the news.  I suppose it would be hard to assume that I wanted to leave my job as I sat there sobbing through a slide show, so they knew I was being sincere, and made every effort to make me feel better about my choice.  Or at least, not make me feel lousy.  (They also had a firsthand perspective of how much I was married to my program, and when posed with the question, "What is Mrs. Willis' #1 priority?", we all knew it was secretly my job.  Oh, I always said it was God, family, and then job, but when you bring your one year old to a musical choreography rehearsal and have half your cast babysit while she is probably stuck in a pee-pee diaper, meanwhile you're running through a step-ball-change sequence over and over with the other half of your cast, you know that your priorities are a bit skewed.)  From lovely gifts, meaningful cards, amazingly impactful spoken words at our final concert, moving performances, to sincere and beautiful words written during the open ended question of their final exam, I knew that my students ultimately supported my choice and cared very deeply about the program they were a part of.

And now it's August.  Back to school season feels so surreal to me.  I haven't NOT gone to school after a summer since I was four years old, so this is really new to me.  Not to mention, while I am excited, I am also terrified about my new journey as a full-time mom.  I know this post has made it sound like I despise and resent motherhood, but that's really not the case.  I just really, REALLY loved my job and was searching for a way to keep everything on my plate.  I know that I am making the best choice for my family, and I am thrilled that I will be able to raise my girls together.  It's just going to take some time to get used to.

Don't get me wrong, teaching certainly has its moments of chaos, but it's predictable chaos, and it will eventually end when the bell rings.  There are also supports, and resources for when things aren't going smoothly.  I've worked, studied, and practiced my whole life to be a teacher, and I'm really comfortable in that position, but being a mom?  Where's the grad class for that?  Do I earn credits for all the diapers I'm changing, and do they transfer over to my potential doctorate, or something?

Strangely enough, I know it's going to be fine.  Mostly because I think teaching experience gives you a great advantage as a parent.  Raising a child involves disseminating information into the minds of little ones, and guess what I'm pretty good at doing?  Just that.  It's going to take some time for me to find my new flow and develop some routines, but it will- in some ways- be a welcome change.  There are days where I am going to go crazy, and I am going to miss my job, program, colleagues, and students tremendously, but ultimately the list of regrets I have upon leaving my job is A LOT shorter than the list of regrets I would have of having my girls grow up with a mom who put her job first, and her family second.

Here's wishing a great school year to all those heading back this Fall, especially to my GB kiddos.  Please know how much I really wish I could be botching all your accompaniments, but know that I am needed much more in my new job as a Mommy.  Lots of love to you all <3

"You'll be in my heart...always"

-Mrs. Willis