My Journey into Teaching — A Late Introduction (PT. 3) || How It Started, How It’s Going

After a month, I knew I hated it. This career I had all hopes of retiring in. This career I had chosen above all others. I despised it. It frustrated me beyond reason. I felt empty and confused. I hated it.

Here are my main reasons:

1. It is way too much work — A teaching job is a hamster wheel in the truest sense.

2. Lots of unpaid labour — People always say, “They don’t pay me enough to do this.” They really don’t. If I were to calculate my hourly rate based on the number of hours I spend in the classroom per month, I make JMD$2,233.74 or USD$15.35 per hour which is not a bad wage. At least, it’s not a bad wage until you account for all the hours I’m not paid for (which is the majority). Time spent in the classroom is the least of my problems. Time spent planning lessons, planning and creating assignments, participating in meetings, liaising with parents and students — wholesale and one-on-one and grading at least 1,000 pieces of students’ work per term (not including exams) among other things! And because they only pay you for your timetabled contact hours, the hidden hours of unpaid labour can be as exorbitant as they want. They can make any demands of us in those unpaid non-contact hours because no one can really quantify them and they look different for each teacher. If I were to include those tasks in calculating my hourly rate, I would make about USD$7.21 per hour — a few cents below federal minimum wage in the United States. Seven dollars per hour to mould the minds of our nation’s future leaders. A sad state of affairs!

3. Not as rewarding as I thought it would be — By the end of the first month, besides experiencing the full force of the poor monetary compensation and the unrelenting day-to-day strain of being a teacher, I felt like I was just a linesman working the conveyor belt that is education. The whole system seemed pointless and irrelevant. Students were stressed and I felt like I was just a part of the problem. I didn’t feel like I was helping anyone or making anyone’s life better, like I thought I would, like they said I would. In fact, there were some days I felt that I was making students’ lives worse just by doing the job I was being paid to do. I know that may be hard for many to understand and maybe, in the grand scheme of things, that is next to impossible but those were my genuine feelings.

4. A lot of decisions from administration and local and regional bodies that just didn’t play out well on the ground — I’m sure this is true of anyone working in any organization. The “bigger heads” make decisions with nary a clue or a care about how these big decisions affect the day-to-day of the small man and the client. But when you’re working with children and when you can see how disadvantaged they are and how worn out you and your colleagues are, as the people to whose care they have been entrusted, it takes a different toll.

5. Teaching is boring and exhausting — You teach the same things, day in and day out. You bring the energy and you hope they reciprocate and I’ve been fortunate and strategic enough that my students generally do. It can really deplete your deepest energies. Sometimes, teaching the same things over and over can provide a sense of stability and make my work easier, for sure. But there’s no challenge. And there isn’t even much room to play around and teach what you actually want to teach and what they actually want to learn. Teaching the prescribed syllabus can suck all your time and energy. As a profession, there is also generally little to no room for growth and promotion is not the same thing as growth.

These are my main reasons. I won’t get started on the special brand of “mom guilt” you experience as an invested teacher, feeling that you are spread so think that you don’t even ever have enough to give these many little people who look up to you, those situations where you feel like you get all the blame and none of the credit for students’ performance, the fact that, as is true in most service industries, everybody wants something from you all the time and it can lead to profound burnout, the baskets we get to carry water, the immense pressure of having “the future of the world” in your hands, the late nights, the time it takes away from your own family, the disappointment of helping students to improve their lives while seeing little improvement in your own, the pressure of being accountable to everyone and their mother — I could go on for weeks.

Of course, I can’t say it has been all bad. I have been blessed with some talented, supportive and brilliant coworkers. I have some amazing students, some of who became dear friends. (I told many of my students I was getting married before I even told my coworkers.) Because of the nature of my subject, I get to engage young minds in some amazing conversations. I have job security and steady pay, which can be a double-edged sword. I have a relatively flexible work schedule because of the school I work at. I get a little paid vacation. (People think it’s a lot but take a look at my article, “The Myth of Holidays for Teachers” to read the truth.) I have a decent measure of autonomy and freedom. And as you can see, from reading this blog, I’ve experienced a lot of self-discovery and learned a lot about people and the world. I am grateful. I really am.

Do I regret the decisions that have led me here? That’s a complicated question.

Am I looking for new career opportunities? Most definitely!

Do I still love to teach? Yes. I always say I love to teach but I hate being a teacher. (Confusing, I know, but you kinda get it, right? Yeah? Yeah)

Will I ever get to the point where education plays no part in my life? I doubt it.

Where do I go from here? No clue. I’m playing it by ear, trying to cultivate contentment, trying to double down and put in the work towards my goals.

When I get to the flip side, I’ll let you know.

My Journey into Teaching — A Late Introduction (PT. 2) || Why I Decided to Teach

Why I Decided to Teach

Why I Decided to Teach

“So you’re telling me you had the chance to pursue any degree you wanted, to become anything you wanted in the world at no cost to you… and you chose to be a TEACHER? What!”

I get asked that question or variations of that question every time I tell someone the story of how I got into university. The full story of that is in a previous blog post but basically, I got a free ride, full scholarship, the works.

After the lady at the scholarship office was finished congratulating me, she asked, excitedly, “So what are you studying?”

“Teaching,” I said. “Education”

“You know this scholarship covers your tuition for anything you want to study at this university, right? Any degree at all.”

“Yes. I know.”

“And you still want to study teaching?”

I caught her drift.

“Yes,” I responded with solemnity so she would know I was serious.

She replied with a dismissive “OK” and proceeded to help me fill out the paper work.

I always tell that story a slightly different way because I don’t remember all the words but I do remember how I felt in the moment. I felt like I was fighting against all odds to pursue a passion that I truly felt was noble and that I felt was the best for my personality and for the life I wanted to lead. And I wasn’t going to let any person, any pressure or any stereotypes stop me.

So why did I choose to teach?

I had started studying law in high school and it was soul-sucking. I excelled at it, got one of the highest grades in the the country on the regional CSEC exams but I knew I couldn’t do it as a profession. At that point in my life, I was really focusing a lot on my mental health, which had deteriorated to a pulp. After beyond volleyed between different levels of depression for four years, I wanted a life that not only looked good but felt good. I wanted a simple life, not one that was complicated, not one that would take me away from the things that fed my spirit, the things that were truly important to me. By this time, I was tired of school and didn’t see the point of it so, medicine and law did not appeal to me because I couldn’t see myself spending another 5-7 years in school. In my final year of high school, I got into a special kind of ministry within my religion. I started learning Mandarin to volunteer to preach and teach the Bible’s message to the large Chinese population in my country. That really satisfied me. I knew I would have to work to support myself and help my family but I wanted a job that wouldn’t take me away from that ministry that I had grown to love. So I thought teaching from 8-3 each day would give me time after work to still sustain that part of my life.

At my high school, teaching wasn’t popular. Some people said they wanted to go into teaching, but only after they had made their career would they consider teaching, maybe as a lecturer or an extra lessons teacher making some side cash. Teaching was not the dream. Teaching was that thing you did at the end of your life after you had “made something of yourself” and for a while, I fell into that trap. I was good at teaching. I was good at making things simple for people to understand. But it was my end-of-life job too. So I spent my school years figuring out what my “real career” would be. And then, at the end of my high school life when none of those dream jobs seemed to fit, I thought, “Why wait? Why push teaching on the back burner? Why not become a teacher first and then see what happens with the rest of my life?”

I mentioned my decision to my teachers and even to my principal, who said that if I went and pursued teaching, I would be guaranteed a job at my alma mater. So I thought, “Great! I’ll have a stable job right out of university!”

Those are my reasons.

Is it what I thought it would be? No.

Do I love to teach? Yes.

Do I love being a teacher? No.

Am I looking for new opportunities? Definitely yes!

But do I regret my decision? No.

I made it with the right motivations. It has afforded me a stable career for my entire adult life. The money isn’t great but it pays the bills and it takes care of my needs.

And it was my decision, not anyone else’s.

I always say, “I chose the life I wanted, not the one that was set out for me” and I have never regretted that.

Check out the 3rd and final part of this series to learn why I love to teach but hate being a teacher.

My Journey into Teaching — A Late Introduction (PT. 1) || Getting Into College

The Journey to University

I knew I wasn’t going to be able to go to university without a scholarship. There was no other way for me.

Student loans didn’t feel right. I didn’t know much about loans. Nobody in my family had ever taken a loan because we were barely surviving and wouldn’t take anything from anyone that we weren’t sure we could pay back. Besides that, I had heard so many horror stories about how student loans tie people down. That just wasn’t my path.

But still, I had no reliable financial support to provide me with food, transportation, books and other supplies I would need to attend university, much less three years of university tuition! So I needed some source of significant financial support.

It was either that or I was going to become a mechanic. No, I’m not joking. The Jamaica-German Automotive School (JAGAS) was down the street from my house and I figured it would be my best shot at getting a career at a very low cost. I would also be close to home so I could come go home for lunch and save on transportation by walking to and from school. Win-win, right?

Anyway, I chose the more traditional option first; auto-mechanics was my back-up plan. So, at the end of sixth form, I was applying for all the scholarships I was eligible for. I waited a long time and got no calls. I went to one interview but they never called back and I was losing hope in my university dreams and packing my tool kit (mentally) for automotive school.

I ended up getting a call for another interview on the same day that I had a convention to attend. At the convention, I struck up a conversation with an older friend who asked me where I was in school and what my prospects were for university. I told her about all the scholarships I had applied for and how I had got very few call-backs. When I mentioned that I had applied for the University of the West Indies’ Open Scholarship, her face lit up. She said, “That’s the best one! That’s the one you want! That’s the one you’re going to get!” She related how much that scholarship had done for her — how it covers tuition for any degree you want to pursue plus good money for room and board, food, books and general maintenance and how she didn’t pay a cent to complete her law degree. Maintenance? Full tuition? I didn’t know such luxuries were possible. The truth is, I didn’t know what to expect when I got into this scholarship game. Scholarship websites don’t tend to be very forthcoming with dollar amounts or details of the scholarship package. So I was clueless. I was just throwing my net out there and seeing what I could get. But, at that moment, there was a fire in me. I decided that was the scholarship I wanted needed and it was going to be the UWI Open or nothing at all!

Still, I went to the interview I had scheduled for that day, but with my outlook completely renewed because I now knew what was possible. That interview went swimmingly and they got back to me in no time to let me know that I had been awarded the scholarship! Now it was time for decisions, decisions, decisions. What if I accepted this scholarship and then the scholarship of my dreams — the UWI Open Scholarship — came through for me afterwards and I was now ineligible because I had already accepted another scholarship? (That’s actually how some of these scholarships contracts work!) This was a tough call, harder than even deciding who to marry or picking out your next nail polish colour! Even though I had my heart set on the UWI Open, I decided not to be rash. I went into the discussion with the scholarship people and I asked all the questions.

Will I be bonded to Jamaica or to the institution awarding me the scholarship?

Will accepting this scholarship make me ineligible to accept other sources of financial aid?

How much is the scholarship offering?

They said the scholarship fund was offering $250,000 (about US$2,500 at the time). Now, neither I nor anyone in my family had ever seen $250,000 in one place at any time. This was a lot of money for someone who had nothing and had no prospects of having anything.

Excitedly (but trying not to show it), I asked my next question.

Do you mean $250,000 per year?

They said no. They were offering me $250,000 in total for the duration of my 3-year degree programme. (Awkward!)

That wasn’t going to help me much because my tuition per year was $252,000. Comparing that to the faint possibility of having my full tuition paid for all three years, I decided to decline.

They were MAD! One of the older ladies on the panel especially — it was her family’s foundation that was funding the scholarship — went ballistic! She literally started to twitch as she made me pointedly aware of her generosity, how they had sifted through so many applicants, how they had deliberated, how they had chosen me — ME! — and how ungrateful I was being (not in all those words).

I was so intimidated. I apologized and explained profusely and mentally prepared myself to help put this woman into an ambulance… but I still wasn’t going to take her scholarship. One of the more level-headed panelists eventually defused the situation, said they respected my decision, thanked me for my time and explained that they would just award the scholarship to another suitable candidate. I thanked her and I bolted.

So I just turned down $250,000, the only financial aid I had been offered after months of filling out at least a dozen tedious applications and months of watching and waiting. What was next for me? I did not know.

I knew I was going to school in September. I also knew that the University of the West Indies doesn’t require students to pay the full tuition up front at the beginning of the year. You pay a small maintenance fee to get started and then you have at least until end of semester exams to finish paying up. So I knew I would start school. I just didn’t how it would be able to pay up the money I would need to finish.

Like a good Jamaican does, I called my aunt in Florida and ask her (sweetly) if she could front me the maintenance fee. She did. And I started school. I walked wherever I could to avoid paying for transportation. I got by eating whatever was most filling and most affordable.

A month and half into the semester, I started getting these calls from this strange number and I just knew it was them. It was them. But I kept missing the calls. For that whole month and a half, I had been visiting the scholarship office at least twice a week to ask if the scholarship had been awarded yet, satisfying my heart with hope each time they said no. I decided I would not miss any more calls and finally, I picked up at the right time, they told me, “Congratulations! You have been awarded the UWI Open Scholarship!”

My heart sank. And that was everything!