Educator Spotlight: Why I Left Teaching

Why I Left Teaching (And What I Learned)

An honest conversation with former teacher Tiana, as part of the Chispa Educator Spotlight series.

Leaving a career is never simple. But leaving teaching, especially when you love what you do and the kids you teach, is a heartbreaking process that can make you question yourself, your choices, and your capacity over and over again.

 

 

Tiana taught 4th grade Reading, Language Arts, and Social Studies in Texas for three years. She built engaging lessons and taught her students independence and social norms during a time of increased turmoil and isolation throughout the COVID-19 pandemic. She loved being the conductor at the helm, especially during station time, when her classroom ran like a well-oiled machine. Watching lightbulbs flicker on in her students was her favorite part.

“Teaching 25 nine-year-olds how to manage their time, follow routines, know their group, clean up, and handle questions on their own took a lot of training, consistency, and patience to get there. But once it clicked, it was so rewarding.”

She gave her students structure, warmth, and consistency. She was a great teacher, and still, she ultimately left.

This is a story of joy, exhaustion, grief, and ultimately the quiet power of choosing yourself.

 

When the “Aha!” Moments Aren’t Enough

Tiana got into teaching because she loved History and English, and teaching felt like the perfect intersection of the two. More than anything, she loved helping students reach those “aha” moments when something finally clicked.

She began her career in education as an ESL paraprofessional, completed student teaching, and stepped into her own classroom with the intention of creating a warm, structured, and engaging space. But the job wasn’t what she expected.

The emotional labor was constant. Behavior management never stopped. “Being a teacher is different,” she explained. “There's just a lot more responsibility… the majority of the job was putting out fires all day long.”

“I expected challenges,” she said, “but I didn’t realize how much of my time and emotional energy would be spent on those things rather than just teaching.”

She spent more time managing crises than fostering creativity. From breaking up fights to handling emotionally charged emails from parents, it often felt like she was walking into battle instead of a classroom.

One moment stuck with her: a parent called to yell at her and demanded that she buy new Play-Doh out of pocket because their child had been selling it at school and it had been confiscated. “What other job puts you through this kind of situation?” she said, still a bit incredulous.

By the end of her third year, the toll of it all had built up. “Even on the good days, and there definitely were good days, there was always something negative that seemed to overshadow the positives. It became a pattern.”

That pattern seeped into her evenings. She cried. She sat in silence. She burned out.

“I felt like I had to be ‘on’ all the time, and there was never a real break,” she said. “Not having regular bathroom breaks or a full 30-minute lunch made it even harder to recharge during the day.”

She was overstimulated, overtired, and emotionally tapped out.

Her college training hadn’t prepared her for this reality. And even with supportive administrators, something she’s still grateful for, the deeper issues weren’t about one principal or one school. The problems went beyond the scope of what they could do. No support could patch the holes for the real systemic problems within the education system.

Still, she stayed. For the students. For the “aha” moments. For the hope that maybe next year would feel different.

The Turning Point

Her breaking point came not with a bang, but with a blank. While planning with her team for year four, she realized she couldn’t picture it. The spark that had carried her through the hard days had gone dim.

“I felt like I was a good teacher and really loved that part. It was also scary not knowing what was coming next… I felt like teaching was for me, but it wasn’t worth the stress.”

When she told her team she wasn’t coming back, they surprised her with kindness. “Go find your new thing,” they told her. “You're going to be okay.” Her principal was supportive too, telling her she’d always have a place if she decided to return.

So she left. No next job lined up. Just the truth that no job was worth sacrificing her mental health for.

 

 

Grieving, Rebuilding, and Relief

“I did grieve,” Tiana shared. “I spent so much time and energy on my career. I was also going to miss the kids. I was sad because I knew it’s what I wanted to do, but I wasn’t happy.”

She spent that summer resting, healing, and decompressing. She exercised regularly, something she first discovered during her years of teaching and still does today. She played video games, job hunted, and slowly began to feel like herself again.

What finally gave her peace was “when I knew the first day of school rolled around and I didn’t have to do ‘Meet the Teacher’ night. It was such a huge relief.” Oddly enough, it was in that quiet moment that she finally felt like herself again and knew she had made the right decision.

With time, space, and care, Tiana began to reflect on what she carried forward and what she was ready to leave behind.

Letting Go, and What Came Next

Tiana didn’t do therapy while she was teaching, but she wishes she had. “I think it would have helped. Even just to have someone tell me it was okay to feel what I was feeling.” She learned a lot about boundaries. About burnout. About what it means to care for yourself before everything breaks down.

She realized that the overwhelm, the constant pressure, and the feeling that even using PTO came with a cost was too big of a burden to carry. Yet through it all, she formed lasting friendships with fellow teachers, bonds that remain some of the strongest in her life.

Today, Tiana works as an Instruction and Curriculum Coordinator for Harris County’s Department of Education, supporting adult education programs. “It’s just a normal office job,” she says. “I feel normal. I can go to the bathroom whenever I want. I use my PTO without guilt. I don’t feel exhausted when I get home.”

She kept her job search broad, open to paths outside of education. But it worked out that she’s still using her experience and expertise, just in a new way. Now, she has the space and wisdom to define success not by her ability to ignore burnout, but by how she feels day to day.

 

 

A Bittersweet Goodbye

A couple months ago, Tiana returned to her former school to watch her last group of students graduate from 5th grade, and she was met with pure joy.

“I felt like a celebrity!” she laughed. “I was so excited to watch them graduate. We took pictures, and some parents were really happy to see me. They asked if we could take pictures together with the kids. It was so nice. That made me so happy. My heart was so full.”

The visit brought everything full circle. “It felt bittersweet,” she reflected, “but I feel content with the effort and energy I gave them. I really did give them my best every day.”

She’s kept every note they gave her. Every drawing. Every little memory. “I was so happy that I went back because I think they're going to remember me. I hope they do. Certainly, I will never forget them.”

She may have stepped away from the classroom, but the memories, relationships, and lessons live on.

“Kids just want someone to show up for them, to love on them, and to be there for them,” she said. “Even on days when it was really hard, that’s what I thought about. They just want someone to be there for them, even though they’re driving you crazy. I would tell myself, I have to be there for them because I don’t know who else is.”

What She Wants You to Know

We asked Tiana what she most wanted readers to take away from her story. Her answers were simple, powerful, and full of compassion:

If you’re a parent:
Support your child’s teachers. Assume they’re doing their best. Respect their time, their boundaries, and their humanity. Behind every lesson plan and parent email is a person carrying far more than you can see, and still showing up.

If you’re a teacher:
Take your PTO. Seriously. You don’t have to wait until you’re at your breaking point. Rest is not a reward, it’s a right. The kids will be okay. And so will you.

If you love someone who teaches:
Don’t assume. Ask what they need. Listen without jumping to solve it. Just show up. Your presence, quiet, consistent, and kind, means more than advice ever could.

For the Readers

It’s truly an honor to share Tiana’s story and highlight the many truths educators carry. If you’re a teacher thinking about leaving, or someone who already has, we see you. Tiana’s story is just one of many, and we’ll be sharing more voices soon.

If you’d like to share your own story, anonymously or not, reach out. There’s room for you here. Your voice matters, and we’re honored to listen.