Quick Hit: It’s a Process

The process of working through my dismissal has been a lot harder than I imagined it would be.  I think the fact that it hit me completely unawares (though, now that I look back on it all, I feel like I should have at least hinted that something was rotten in Denmark) doesn’t make it any easier.  Add to that the belief I had that at least two of the people involved in all of this would never in a million years treat me (or anyone else) the way I was treated, and I find myself at loose ends.

One minute, I’ll be perfectly okay with all of it.  I’m seeing proverbial writing on walls, and it is very likely that this was the best possible thing to happen to me; getting out ahead of the crash is always the smart way to go.  The next minute, I’ll be bitterly angry; how could people I trusted treat me the way they did?  I want to march right up to a couple of them and shame them for the lies they told me and the cold-hearted way they dismissed me without the courtesy of looking me in the eye.  Then I’ll cycle to heartbreak; I made promises to those kids.  I had plans for my class (I was the junior class advisor; I had ideas about fundraising and prom and senior trip and, and, and…), I had plans for the senior English class, I was putting together a kick-ass elective on the Holocaust, and now none of that is going to happen.  I’m the one who was always there, who the kids could go to for band-aids and tampons and “Mrs. Chili, can you help me with this?”  Who’s going to be there for them now?

I want to move on, I really, really do.  I can’t do that, though, until I get a little more distance (and another job where I can feel needed and useful again).

I hate this.

image credit



Filed under Uncategorized

5 responses to “Quick Hit: It’s a Process

  1. “Life is a series of experiences, each one of which makes us bigger, even though it is hard to realize this. For the world was built to develop character, and we must learn that the setbacks and griefs which we endure help us in our marching onward.”
    — Henry Ford

  2. Darci

    I am the band-aid and tampoon teacher as well. I feel your pain. To be summilarily dumped at the curb like someone’s recycling is such an sad way to treat a teacher or a human. I think of you often and know you will come out of this a better person and a better teacher. Just need to get to that place.

  3. Glen, knowing this intellectually and knowing it emotionally are, I’m afraid, very different things. I’m working hard to integrate the two, and I know that I’ll look back and see how this was all for the best, but right now it just hurts.

    Darci, thank you. I’m not too proud to admit that I really need to hear that people are thinking about me right now; I need to not feel alone in all of this.

  4. rantingwoman

    I feel awful for you. The system doesn’t care how good you are or how much you do for the kids. The admins only care about appearances, statistics and money.

    I have no words to make tis better. Hopefully a better position will find its way to you.

  5. I too am thinking of you and am delighted when you find the time to write. I have always looked foreward to your blog posts because you always seem to have so much inner peace even when things around you were falling apart.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s