Burnt Out
What comes next?
I woke up this morning thinking about writing a blog on my career, on teaching, on the growing sense of burnout I’ve been experiencing. But it occurred to me I’d done so once already. So, before opening this page to write what’s before you; I scrolled back through published stories and found I had, indeed, covered the topic two years ago. And what I discovered was that nothing has changed. Or, if it has changed, it has not been for the better.
In January 2022, I wrote about my belief that it’s time to find another path. I wrote about my disillusionment in the institution of education and the teaching profession. I wrote about how it had gone from pursuing a passion and being a labor of love to one of frustration and disappointment. You can read that blog below.
And here I am, two years and two months later, still in the position I was back then, literally and figuratively. I tried to get out. I took a course meant to help teachers transition out of the classroom. I did many hours of virtual training to “upskill” in a variety of disciplines. I listened to podcasts and read articles written by and for teachers who had successfully left the classroom. I polished my resume and my LinkedIn profile. I did all the things I was supposed to do, and I very nearly landed a couple of positions, too.
The interview and hiring process has changed dramatically since the last time I was in the private sector. Round after round of interviews, skills tests, portfolios, virtual roundtables, etc.. The hoops I jumped through seemed endless. I made it through several rounds with a couple of different employers. Asking the wrong questions, I lost myself a position I was sure I was about to be offered, and disheartened, I gave up.
Options
A year ago, I began thinking about a specific career path and the possibility of going back to school. The prospect of another couple of years of education to earn a third master’s degree was nearly as daunting as the student loan debt associated with it. Or maybe the loan debt was the heavier factor. I believe in lifelong learning and wouldn’t mind being a student again, despite the demands on my time and energy. But to add $40-$50k in debt at this stage of my life?
But I know what I’d be going to school for. I know there’s another career I might pursue; one I had considered early in my life. It was always going to be education or mental health. I’ve given education a good run. It has not worked out the way I had hoped. So, is it time to pursue a mental health career; specifically in clinical counseling?
The skills needed for the job are ones I believe I have, and those who know me well agree. I have the support of my peers. But do I have the commitment? Am I willing to saddle myself with another load of debt as I rebuild from the recent changes in my life and try to begin again?
I face a three choice problem. The first choice is obvious and by far the simplest. I stay right where I am and continue to try to find the joy, find the satisfaction. To say I’m skeptical is an understatement. I’ve been trying for years and, rather than uncovering the secrets to infusing the job with new life, I find new frustrations, additional reasons to be dismayed. Things aren’t getting better; not for me, not for teachers, not for education.
The other choices bring up an ages old dilemma: Do I hunt for a job that pays the bills, that has potentially less stress and more room for growth, that satisfies financial goals and responsibilities but doesn’t satisfy the need I have to “give back,” to “serve” or tap into the decade of educational experience I have? Or do I go back to school to pursue a career that satisfies those needs, that may pay me what I make now but comes with increased debt and could take a couple of years to reach? I suppose there’s a second branch to this choice, where I find something that satisfies both my personal and financial needs without adding debt, but I don’t know where to begin to look for that unicorn.
Conclusion
I wish this was a blog that offered answers, that offered insight for people in the same boat. I wish this was a blog that was going to end with advice and a message of hope. If anything, this is more of an appeal for advice.
As I said, I took a course for teachers leaving the field. I joined forums. I tapped into the transitioning-teacher community, but perhaps not deeply enough. Maybe I didn’t put in enough work or my search parameters were too narrow. The trouble I ran into is the positions I investigated–the fields where teachers have the most transferable skills–were flooded with people in the same set of circumstances as me, or were in fields I wasn’t interested in. Maybe I gave up too soon. I’ve thought about returning to that course and starting again, but it’s daunting. Maybe the problem was fortitude.
And maybe that’s the problem with my current situation. Maybe I lack the fortitude to persevere, to hold on until things get better or find ways to make them better myself. I would love to lean into the optimism of that statement, but I sincerely believe I’ve tried. And I know dozens of teachers who are feeling the same way and hear on social media from teachers all over the country, in all kinds of roles, in all kinds of schools who are experiencing the same kind of burnout.
No, two years after I wrote that first blog on the topic, I am feeling the same way I did then. It’s time. I will continue to give this job–and my students–everything I can in the meantime, but my teaching days are coming to an end. The question is, what’s next?
Phillip Davis is the author of Peppermint Lightning, Jack-o-’Lightning, and Justice for the Missing. He is an elementary school teacher, and mental-health advocate. He writes on the topics of writing, mental health, and self-improvement.
