Jun 2024
Last Monday Morning, June 10th
It was the last week of the school year, and I was filled with a mix of excitement and nerves. The prospect of a long summer ahead was thrilling, yet uncertainty about whether or not we'd return to school in the fall left me feeling confused. I received looks from staff, their hugs filled with grief, as if I were dying. Emails of appreciation and donations to my organizations poured in.
I went to see the Assistant Principal, the nicest lady at our school. She was unsure about her future, believing she might be demoted to her previous job. But in a sudden twist, it was announced at the school assembly that she had been promoted to a higher position. The uncertainty about my own job loomed large. Why did everyone seem to know something I didn't?
I asked her directly what was going on. She explained that they had informed the staff to give them a chance to say goodbye to me properly. I appreciated their thoughtfulness. As I left, I felt overwhelmed by the tasks ahead. Like a marathon, I wrote reports, called parents about gift cards from fundraising, created picture collages in Canva, and prepared clothes for the lost and found donation, among many other things.
**Tuesday**
The next day, while cleaning my office, my sense of belonging began to fade. I took down posters and flyers, categorized my personal items, and moved many things to my car, leaving school-owned items on a large shelf. I took a final picture with the first flower my daughter had given me to congratulate me on getting the job. It was dry and dusty, and I decided to let it go.
On my way to the parking lot, I saw a few staff members talking about my departure as if it were definite, but I wasn't sure. Did they know something I didn't?
**Wednesday Morning**
Wednesday was a pupil-free day. With no students around, everyone was cleaning and discarding items. I felt bad for the books and office supplies being thrown away, but what could I do? I cleaned my bins, created a worksheet for inventory, and asked two coworkers for help, which never came. They gave me a small gift, which I kept. All day, I counted items for the inventory list.
There was an announcement for all staff to gather for coffee and pastries one last time. I asked the principal if I could keep some things in my bin, and she confirmed I was leaving for sure. It felt like a stone dropped on my head and sand filled my throat. I kept myself together and mentioned I hadn't been officially informed by my department. She urged me to call my boss for an answer.
In the office, I called my direct admin.
He denied having any news and advised me to apply for jobs. Frustrated, I went to a scheduled meeting with the principal and told her what he said. She didn't believe him, suggesting he might be lying. We had an emotional, informative, and somewhat condescending hour-long meeting. She revealed things I hadn't known and emphasized advocating for myself. She shared how she had fought for her own position and helped our AP secure her new role, now as a principal.
The conversation brought up feelings of discrimination, inadequacy, and frustration. Despite feeling overqualified, I wasn't seen as someone worth fighting for. The principal repeated multiple times that I was "over over over over qualified," and we discussed the glass ceiling in educational institutions for those without specific credentials. We ended the meeting with mutual appreciation, a hug, and a selfie.
Exhausted and with many tasks still left, I skipped meals and water. I said goodbye to my office, took a photo, and dropped off a gift for a kind lady who had welcomed me three years ago. I also bid farewell to the counselors. One had hurt me deeply last year without ever apologizing, while the other remained kind and connected. Their bond confused me, especially since they didn't invite me to lunch. Overwhelmed with loneliness, I quickly regained my composure.
I took a final photo of the front door and left. Thanks to the digital era, I received a link an hour later filled with thank you notes, cards with good wishes, and best regards. Now, I find myself questioning if I want to return. Exhausted from fighting for my place, I realize it's time to change my path.
