Last updated on September 23rd, 2023 at 03:58 pm
I suspect identity in occupation is one of the strongest ties pulling teachers back when they want to leave the profession.
We’re ensconced in a people-focused profession, after all. Everyone knows you as the teacher. They may donate used books to your classroom or ask about your students. They ask how school is going, and maybe some pedagogical advice for their own kids. Any type of craft item containing apples or the phrase “Teaching is a Work of Heart” get bequeathed to you with seemingly magnetic pull. After all, you’re the teacher.
A teaching career is an investment
The feeling of not wanting to throw away all of your investment in the profession can be an issue for many careers. Maybe you set your sights on a job early on, and you’ve spent years cultivating it. Maybe you studied and worked diligently for this occupation in college, toughed it through internships and survived the challenging, low-paying years of starting out. You’ve fought hard to learn more and advance. It’s possible that along the way, you’ve amassed a reputation for your commitment to the job– making what others think of you just one more obstacle (in your mind) to leaving.
Maybe you’re still paying the hefty student loan bill for your education for this gig.
For all these reasons, it becomes hard to turn away. Honestly, I still wrestle with this. My career in education was a massive culmination of time, energy, learning and finances. Beyond the usual inputs– college, contract hours, professional development– my career was punctuated by countless lesson planning on weekends and setting up during summers, reading professional books on my own time, and buying supplies far exceeding the amount of our yearly reimbursement. And that was just five years of teaching. Still, it was a huge investment.
Teaching and the sunk cost fallacy
If I had a particular devil on my shoulder, he would probably be called Sunk Cost Fallacy Felix or something.
I’m a measurer of energy, an appreciator of efficiency. So it’s hard to let go of things that took so much of me.
But so many life decisions require weighing more than just the investments you’ve made– what do you need to do right now? What is best looking toward the future?
The sunk cost fallacy can cause people to decide against the better course of action and keep doing what they’re doing because they’ve heavily invested in it. For teachers, this can mean not leaving the profession, even if it has become clear that would be the best option, because of all they’ve dedicated to the job.
It takes some mental work to clear the hurdle of the sunk cost fallacy. But I had to let go of these things to accomplish what I thought was more important— being where my family needed me.
How to cut ties with teaching, even if it’s difficult
If leaving your job is something you’ve given serious thought and financial planning to, but there are mental and emotional roadblocks standing in the way, let me offer tips that helped me:
1. Accurately regard and remember the value of your new role.
This will motivate you to stand strong when you feel unsure. If you’ve left a steady paycheck position for something less regular– starting a business or creating something or staying home with children– this will be a challenge. Comparing the income streams side by side will have you clamoring to update your LinkedIn profile. But hold onto your original goals. The comparison doesn’t have to be monetary. I consider my role as a stay-at-home-mom to be priceless, for instance. I could run the numbers for all of my home economy tasks like childcare, house cleaning, laundry and meal preparation, and that combination would probably meet my teaching salary. But it’s worth even more for me that I perform these tasks myself, for my home, intead of outsourcing. The weight of importance is not purely monetary. If I really consider it, my role as a mother, homemaker and wife is just as important, if not more important, than when I was a teacher.
“The weight of importance is not purely monetary.“
Chocolate for the teach
2. Rehearse your explanation for leaving teaching
Not everyone needs a complete explanation for this life change– and even fewer may truly understand you when you do try to explain. Practice being okay with not being understood. It’s okay to not justify every choice of your life to people. I struggle with this– my imagination takes wild leaps in assuming the general populace is holding up my resume, my college experience, my life on paper and peering down condescendingly demanding answers. I think the reality is that people don’t care about my day job. Yes, it comes up in conversation frequently. Career is a common small talk subject, like the weather or family. It’s often just a conversation go-to, not because people are genuinely trying to keep score.
3. Anchor yourself apart from career identities.
Identity is important to people, whether they realize it or not– otherwise, there wouldn’t be a market for tattoos and bumper stickers, for instance. You’ll put on some new identity markers by quitting this job and taking on a new one. Try not to regard it like a collection to be obsessed over– you can be the whole you without these things, too.
4. Remember the good of teaching and move on.
It’s okay to close a life chapter and still include it in your fond memories. (I actually have a few binders filled with lovely student notes and pictures for this memory-keeping purpose.) You don’t have to be the same thing, in the same occupation, forever. Appreciate your life segment spent there and free yourself to make new memories. I can enjoy my new life situation and reminisce on my previous times teaching without regret. Pulling from the best memories reminds me of the joy I got from teaching these young people and gives me hope that I can accomplish other great things in life.
Stay strong, and quit teaching if you need to
It’s hard to leave behind a career we felt defined us, but I hope you find value in my suggestions. You can read my stories of leaving teaching after 5 years all over this blog. This site was partly born out of a need for catharsis and to make sense of leaving the career. For whatever reason you may need to push the pause button on teaching, I hope my posts can guide you through the decision. I’m rooting for you.
