📖Turn the Page📖

Hey-o and Happy Friday, Reader!

My husband and I used to play a game when we first met.

Would you rather… [literally any awful thing]… OR Have an entire year of Februaries?

(You really learn a lot about a person this way).

I always, without fail, chose whatever option didn’t involve February.

For some reason—as a teacher—February was always the month that broke me.

One year it was a terrible parent saga with ZERO admin support. 🚍 (Yes, I was under that bus)
My final year teaching, it was my head of school casually telling me that I owed the school money because I had missed so many days due to my 3 year old’s constant sickness. ☠️
Most recently, I got the news that my teeny teacher salary had been audited. From a tax year 8 years before.

(You can’t make this $hit up, Reader.)

Even if nothing catastrophic happens in February, it tends to be a rough month.

With only 28 days (and yes some years a ghastly 29th sneaks in there), somehow it drags on and on.

You should be in a groove with your students, but (where I live anyway) there’s been far too much cold, dark and indoor recess and everyone’s mood is sitting somewhere between a sugared up toddler and those creepy twins in the Shining.

Look familiar?

So I just want you to know, if you’re feeling grim (or cabin fever-like) it’s not you, Reader…

It’s just February.

It’s the part of the school year where the adrenaline has worn off, the finish line still feels far away, and the question you’ve been deftly avoiding starts tapping you on the shoulder, (with a hammer):

Is this really what I want the next 20-25 years of my career to look like??

The long days juggling behavior plans and lesson plans just trying to squeeze in the actual teaching part I signed up for
The hard (unsupported) conversations I am having almost daily with parents or colleagues or administrators
The extra, unpaid work that keeps me so stretched thin and worn out that weekends are spent recovering instead of relaxing

Because this time of year is just a magnifying glass for what we as teachers experience all school year, every school year.

And I don’t know about you, but I got to a point (17 years in to be exact), where I realized there was more I wanted for myself:

🌻 More freedom in my day (and life!) to take care of myself the way I knew I needed to

💫 More creativity and excitement for the work I would be doing day in and day out for so many more years

💰 And yes. More money so I would finally feel compensated for all of the hard work and education I had invested in over the years.

And as soon as I realized that, I knew I needed to make some hard choices.

That I needed to make a change—because it’s so easy as teachers to push those changes off until:

After testing season
After the school year ends
After summer gives them space to breathe.

But let’s be honest here: There is literally always something “coming up.”

So I knew as soon as I had that feeling that I wanted to make a change, I needed to start learning how.

And that’s what allowed me go from a stressed, underpaid and undervalued literacy specialist to a well-paid writer for education companies desperately looking to hire teachers.

And since then, so much good has come into my life:

Slow mornings with that extra cup of hot coffee
Taking my dog for long walks because I don’t have that first meeting until 10am
Realizing that “work” can be so many things: creatively fulfilling, ever expanding and growth oriented, mission- and values-aligned, AND can pay you what you’re worth.

Not to mention, not ever experiencing another teacher February again 😉

Curious to learn more about how I did this?

Keep watching for my emails because I’m going to share it all with you over the next couple of weeks.

If February is looming and you need a cheerleader, hit reply with the world ME!

🥶 Stay warm out there,

Meredith