I Quit.

I don't want to be just a teacher anymore.

I have wanted to be a teacher my whole life. Except for the brief period at age 9 when I wanted to be a Disney Imagineer, I have always dreamt of being a teacher. I was that girl who played teacher with my brothers over the summer, even making up and grading worksheets I made them fully expected them to complete. I was that student who begged my former teachers to let me help them set up their classrooms in those early August workdays. To me, there was something reverent about walking the halls before any other students arrived. I volunteered in classrooms during lunch. I mentored younger students before school. I loved everything about being a teacher. So, I graduated high school, went to college, and became a teacher. I got a teaching job at a relatively inner-city middle school with a challenging group of students, and loved them. But what I realized, just like many first year teachers, was that I wasn't prepared to teach my students the way I thought I was. Sure, I had the degree to prove I knew my stuff, but my on-the-job training was just beginning. I went to my district-approved PD, attended the 'mandatory' workshops,  and still felt like I wasn't gaining anything useful.

When I switched jobs and moved to the high school level, I became part of a new program that focused on design thinking and project based learning. I had the same demographic of students, but now, I had a whole new set of tools with which to team them. I felt like I had discovered my passion for teaching all over again.  I had found my niche in education. While it's only been two years since I found that niche, I'm incredibly excited about the journey I have taken since discovering my 'thing'. But, I quickly learned that if I wanted to become better at what I did I was going to have to take it upon myself to seek that information out. I was fortunate enough to be in a district that regularly offered professional development, but it wasn't what I needed or was looking for. So, like any Millennial would, I turned to Google.

I began to research anyone and everyone I could who practiced design thinking and project based learning, not just in my region of the country but world-wide. This research has led me to ever-deepening pools of resources on Twitter, Google+, and blogs written by people around the globe. I spend multiple hours a week talking to people who are better at what I do than I am, people who have done things I could only dream of, and those who have failed epically just like I have. I network with these people like I work at Cisco. My excitement for this wealth of information grew and I wanted to share it. I brought it to co-workers, administration, and there were some who were just as excited as I was. There were some who jumped right off the deep end and joined me. However, as the song goes, every party needs a pooper.

I expected that. I was fully prepared for people to be disengaged or disinterested. I expected to hear grumbles from the same people who complain every time they are asked to do anything outside the four walls of their classroom. (And to be fair, we can all be that way sometimes, right?) I didn't expect or prepare for people to look down on me for what I was doing, like I was shaming the family for rising above my station.  I wasn't hurting anyone else; I hadn't preached the 'repent or die' speech you hear sometimes from those with an academic agenda to spread. All I did was find something that I thought could make me a better teacher, and pass on what I had learned.

I heard things like "Why do you want to be more than a classroom teacher? Isn't that enough?" or "I'm content just to be a teacher and teach my content. That's what we went to school for, right?", and even "You're doing way too much. We don't get paid for that." I've never been one to let the haters get to me, too much. A good friend of mine always says, "Haters gonna' hate, potatoes gonna' potate." However, the idea that in my profession, it was frowned upon for me to say "I want more" really struck a nerve.

I was angry. I still sort of am. As teachers, we constantly fight the battle (whether we know/admit/like it or not) against the age old saying "Those who can't do, teach." I am as smart as my friends who are attorneys, medical students, veterinarians, and engineers. I could do anything I want to do, and what I want to do is teach. But there is this stigma that teachers JUST teach. There is so much power in that four letter word.

Just: adverb; barely; by a little; simply; only; no more than.

The phrase 'just a teacher' implies that there is a level of comfort in what you do and you look no further than that comfort zone. And yeah I get it. I mean, who doesn't love to be comfortable? But think of it this way, when was the last time you encouraged your students to be comfortable? When was the last time you longed for your students to be comfortable in their academic journey, because that is what will benefit them when they get out into that proverbial 'real world'? Comfortable is the kryptonite to growth, and I feel my job as a teacher is to push, pull, shove, drag, guide my students towards growth. If I don't practice what I preach, what kind of example am I setting? I strive to constantly challenge myself at my job and know that if I fail, it's not the end of the world. I try to model for my students what I ask them to do, and in an age where '21st Century Skills' rule the vocabulary, by seeking out experts, engaging in first hand research, and using technology as a tool I know that I'm doing just that.

To those who don't know where the edge of their comfort zone lies, to those who ask why I feel the need to be more than just a teacher, or to who are content never to seek out new material whether from comfort, lack of knowledge, or fear, I want to pose a question. When was the last time you told your students that the bare minimum was acceptable? If you want to JUST  be a teacher, what does that mean? And more importantly, are you truly serving your students if JUST what you do now is all you ever do?

I am resigning from being just a teacher.

It's not that I want to be more than a teacher. I want to be a teacher who does more.