I left 3 years ago after 17yrs as a teacher. There were a number of things that contributed to my decision, but mainly it was because I couldn’t achieve any kind of work life balance and the stress of the job was making me ill. At a gp appointment I was told I needed anti depressants, and most of my colleagues were popping pills just to get through life. But I knew all of my symptoms were due to work and would be gone if I left. So I did.
I sometimes have nightmares about it all. I sometimes still get the physical symptoms of stress that I lived with daily (palpitations, sickness, headaches, panic attacks) because i lived with that stress response for so long. I don’t know how to describe it to anyone who hasn’t been through it. It’s not just about long hours and working hard. It’s about constant scrutiny, someone always ready to leap on you (parents, kids, management, ofsted) if you’re not amazing and perfect. That feeling of being completely inadequate because you physically can’t finish all your exam marking, and knowing you’re letting your class down a bit by not having their hwk marked for the next lesson. Knowing that you’ve given everything you can, but it’s hardly made a dent in the problems of a class, and you’re simply not enough. Dragging yourself in to work when you’re sick/dumping the kids at nursery when they’re sick, because there’s an exam class you need to see, or a kid was on holiday the week before and you need to see them to get them caught up on coursework. Being on your knees trying to make sure your (school) kids are safe, happy, making progress, learning and then having a meeting where slt tell you you’ve been doing it all wrong and now you have to do this extra thing every lesson. Constantly giving everything and constantly being told it’s not good enough. Disrespect from (some kids), even really lovely kids being so draining sometimes because they don’t fit in the round hole of a classroom. Being the last mum to pick up from nursery because I’ve been with my a level class doing a revision session (which obviously someone will miss because they went to work/were on holiday/were ill, so you are going to have to repeat it when they’re back), getting my own kids home, feeding them and they desperate for bedtime, wishing my time with them away because I’ve got a stack of year 8 reports to write as well as 3 classes books to mark before the morning. Not to mention the 5 hours of lessons than need planning (if you’re not a teacher, have you ever done a presentation? Think of the planning that goes into that? That’s what it’s like every day, and that’s one of the good bits of the job). Knowing that half the stuff you’re doing/being made to do by management or ofsted is not improving the lives of the kids in your class. Knowing that some of what you’re made to do is seriously affecting the mental health and self confidence of the kids you feel so maternal about. Skipping lunch every day because you’re running detentions to try to get kids to finish hwk, parents complaining that their kid shouldn’t be doing the detention, spending more time of phone calls and emails to try to get parent to understand why you’re doing this.
There are some amazing perks of the job. Summer hols are pretty good and I got to feel almost like a normal person. The kids I worked with were amazing human beings, and it’s a privilege to get to know them and have them open up to you and let you into their head. They’re funny and loving and amazing in the main. I don’t think there are many jobs where you’d get the same high as I’d get in teaching. But the other 95% of stuff was too much for me to bear.