Insecurities. We all have them. Every single one of us. No one is immune. And nowhere have I felt more insecure than I have in the field of teaching.
I have always felt like I’ve had to prove that I was a competent teacher. That I’m not just faking it through the day and that I do, in fact, know what I’m doing. I can’t be alone in this, right? I feel like every teaching job I’ve had has been secured, not based on my merit, but on my circumstances.
For the first eight years of my career, I was a special educator. I received my post-bac in special education through a wonderful partnership from the school I attended and the school districts that hired students on intern certificates. I am very fortunate that I was able to change careers while attending school for education while being employed by a school district. Let’s face it – taking four to five months off without pay to student teach is not a viable option for many. I am one of the many.
Most educators would agree that it’s not until the third year of being in a classroom that you stop feeling “new” and overwhelmed by the demands of teaching. I am no exception. I flourished at my first school and started to gain immense confidence in my abilities. I had wonderful department chairs who fed into my strengths and provided me with ample opportunities to succeed in the field of special education. I knew that my time and my experience as a special educator have provided me with a solid foundation to be successful in a general education classroom.
During my tenure at this first school, I went back and earned my MA in English – I had always said my BA was out of necessity (all about that single mom life) and my MA was for me. Once I earned the MA, I was able to add secondary English to my teaching certificate and thus, set out to leave special education and get my foot in the door in general.
The year I decided to leave my first school, I applied for the gen ed openings at the school. Not once, not twice, but three times. I was rejected each and every single time – for one reason: I was good at SpEd and it’s easier to fill a gen ed position than it is a SpEd one. I called bullshit on this and reminded the principal that I could employ the same techniques on a larger scale. He saw my state scores for SpEd and he didn’t want to lose them. I asked him to imagine what I could do with 150 students as opposed to 50. But he just didn’t get it.
I didn’t like being pigeon-holed. It hurt. I had grown as much as I possibly could have in those eight years, it was time to move on.