This story was published by a Voices of Change fellow. Learn more about the fellowship here.
Teaching is many things. It’s a profession and a passion, tedious and rewarding, infuriating and full of joy. For some, mental health issues like anxiety and depression become worse when teaching. This has led to many teachers and educators leaving the profession, with plenty of news and opinion coverage on the mental health crisis in education.
But my story is a bit different. Not only has teaching improved my mental health, but it quite literally saved my life.
Against a Sea of Troubles
In February of 2017, I was working in retail management, and had been doing so since graduating college back in 2002. I was OK at sales, a pretty good manager and especially great at training new sales associates. At the same time, I was also struggling with severe depression and anxiety. I didn’t really know why. I didn’t think I hated my job; I loved my wife and family. On paper, I had good friends and a pretty good life. But there were some days I just could not face. I felt alone, empty and frankly, lost. Was this all that my life would have to offer? Would this be all I was ever known for? Would anyone miss me when I’m gone?
This led to the evening of Feb. 24. I was driving home from another dull day of work when the desire to drive my car off an overpass became stark, real and terrifyingly close to reality. I simply had had enough and thought this would make people remember me, even for a little while. But I didn’t do it. The experience and its closeness shook me. When I got home, I broke down to my wife and we decided I needed help and I needed it now. She took me to a hospital where I spent the next few days reading, reflecting and most importantly, talking to mental health professionals.
Over the next few weeks, I learned two life-altering things. First, my brain needed medicine. Second, I wanted to become a teacher. That may sound a little strange, but in the course of my reflections and therapy on why I felt so empty, one thing became clear: I had an innate desire to make a positive impact on the world. When I started broaching the topic of what that might look like for me, friends and family all floated the same idea, “Maybe you should think about teaching?!”
Plan B
Growing up, I wanted to be one of two things: a professional wrestler or a rock star. By my mid-20s, after forgoing college norms and diving into both of these dreams, I realized that maybe those weren’t the most practical vocations. So, without much thought, I started working retail. I never stopped to think about what I wanted to do; I just did what I needed to do to get by.
But even in my long career in retail sales and management, a trend started to emerge. I liked teaching people. I took on training roles and attended classes to learn as much as I could about the product I was selling. My favorite accomplishments over the years were never the big sales I made, but the people I developed and guided to success. So when my family and friends started telling me to look into teaching, I thought, “Well, why not? It can’t be too different from teaching people to sell guitars and mattresses.”
I am also very much a kid at heart. I play video games, watch streamers on Twitch, love cartoons and comics and have always worn the title of “goofball” as a badge of honor. I could fit in with literal kids; they might relate to me more than my actual peers! I am also a self-described nerd who loves learning new things and researching anything and everything. Sharing my enthusiasm for learning made teaching seem like a strong fit.
More importantly to my mental health, the idea of being a teacher hit home in that missing part of my life. Would teaching the next generation make me feel like I’m leaving my mark? Will it help me feel fulfilled? Is it OK to place so much of my personal value on a career?
Without much to lose and the hope that a change in vocation could bring what I felt was missing, I applied to an online university to begin my journey toward becoming an educator.
A New Hope
Fast forward through a few years with a lot of college work and a stint as a district substitute teacher in an urban school district. I got my first full-time job as a teacher, teaching fourth grade math, science and social studies at a wonderful little school that was walking distance from my home. In that first year, even though I was in my late 30s, I experienced all the anxiety, fatigue and headspinning experiences of any first-year teacher. I also began to see a change in myself. Even though I had never been so tired and so challenged, I also finally felt like I mattered. Like I was doing what I was supposed to do.
Before going into teaching, my belief was that the difference I would be able to make in a kid's life would be impactful, but only insofar as education. I had no idea how much teaching actually revolved around two things I am particularly good at that really fill my emotional bucket: performing and building relationships.
I love being on stage and in the spotlight. It’s why I wanted to be a wrestler or a rock star. What I wish I had known all those years ago was that teaching is just a big performance every day that can elicit the same emotional highs (and lows) as a fun rock show. I’m not being hyperbolic when I say that I sometimes have the same sense of accomplishment and “high” when I feel like I gave a great lesson — or the students really get into the groove of a good debate — as I do when I step off stage after thrashing punk music with my band. The idea that I could do something positive for the world and still feel this way afterward cemented my belief that teaching is where I belong.
In my first year of teaching, I also began to see how this new vocation could help others besides the kids and me. One day, partway through my first year, a parent came in to request a conference. She felt overwhelmed and frustrated that her amazingly bright child just could not get into math and was actively pushing back against the very idea of it. As I sat with the mom and we brainstormed how we could work to present learning in a new and novel way for her child, I saw her relax, smile and realize that it would be OK. I had hard proof that what I’m doing made someone's life better, even for just a few moments. By the end of the year, her child was doing much better in math and, more importantly, really enjoyed learning and working with her mom to build resilience and a growth mindset.
Solidarity
Mental health among teachers is a tough and very personal subject. My hope in sharing my story is not to say that teachers should all be happy all the time, or that the struggle with depression and anxiety amongst teachers isn’t a real problem that needs solving. I am simply reflecting on what it is that teaching gives me each day. The opportunity to perform. The opportunity to make connections with students, families and fellow teachers. The opportunity to teach skills and subjects that will make my students better learners. And crucially, the opportunity to make a real difference in the lives of my students and their families.
Today, I have the pleasure of teaching my favorite subject, history and social studies, to seventh and eighth grade students. One goal I have every day is to remember that being allowed to influence these students' lives is an honor and a privilege. My words, no matter how much they try not to listen, have real power and influence on their growth and the decisions they will make.
By choosing to be a teacher, not only did I save my own life, but I am also improving the lives of my students, and they may just save the world.
If you or someone you know is in immediate distress or is thinking about hurting themselves, call the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. You also can text the Crisis Text Line (HELLO to 741741) or use the Lifeline Chat on the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline website.
