September Begins

And My Teaching Career Comes to an End

Classroom Chronicles: An email telling me that my district has an INTENT TO DISMISS FOR ME — I’M ON PAID ADMINISTRATIVE LEAVE.

When I read the email, it was a Monday evening, and I was FaceTiming with my bestie. I literally stopped talking and she saw the confused look on my face. Asking me what was wrong, I read her the email. Each word felt like a dagger stabbing my heart.

I have been a teacher with the Boston Public Schools for over twenty years. During that time, I have seen many teachers, good teachers, forced out of the district. When I was a new teacher, witnessing how teachers were being treated, I swore it would never happen to me.

But it did.

There were many factors that led to the district ending my career:

1. I was recovering from breast cancer treatment
2. I was diagnosed with a heart condition
3. I had developed high blood pressure
4. My mother had passed away from ovarian cancer.
5. COVID pandemic forced us into lockdown and remote teaching
6. My former principal yelled at me and called me “stupid.”
7. I chose to use the union’s PAR (Peer Assistance Review) as my evaluation
8. Both PAR evaluators gave me harsh write-ups
9. Stress and fear impacted my teaching abilities
10. I thought I had one last opportunity to redeem myself to avoid being fired

It has been hell for me for the past eight years when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer. I went from teaching juniors and seniors to 6th graders. I became a caregiver for my mom, taking her to appointments and working with her at home. My mom worked for BPS as well. She was in food services as a cafeteria manager. But when she fell ill, she could no longer work. The district threatened to fire her, so Mom retired and collected Social Security. Her health insurance benefits changed to Medicare as did the quality of her care.

Mom left this world on June 6th, 2017 and like J=Kanye West, when he lost his mom, I haven't been the same since. I continued to go to work, write poetry, and care for my son, but a part of me was gone. My mom was my rock. She had been through so much and had asked so little from life.

So I had to carry on, trying to focus on work, my writing, and raising my son. My son became my rock, my safety net. He held me up with his positive attitude. He misses his grandmother dearly and mentions her every day. Death is a cruel being. I fear it so much and work hard to maintain my health. And work even harder to do so.

But now, I’m facing what my mother faced. Once the district fires me, I will no longer have health insurance and neither will my son. I need health insurance. I have to maintain my health. I would lean on his father but he hasn’t been working regularly, so health insurance may not be an option for him. It’s always been on me to take care of the family. But now, I need someone to take care of me.

Teaching is such a thankless job. Yet, it was a job I felt was my destiny. As a Black woman, I wanted to help Black and Brown children reach their educational goals. I thought I had improved this past year, only to be stabbed in the back by my evaluator. Now, the district wants me gone.

I cleaned out my classroom on August 31st. My BPS email ended on the same day. I no longer have access to anything happening at my school or within the district. I feel like I’ve been kicked out of the club and the locks have been changed. I’m adrift and don’t know where I’m going next.

If teaching is my destiny, I know the universe will provide. God will point the way. I just have to be alert and find the path. If my destiny lies elsewhere, I hope it’s made known to me soon. Bill collectors don’t care where the money is coming from as long as the bills get paid. Whatever severance I receive from BPS, I’ll use it to pay down my debt, cut my spending, and look to generate multiple streams of income. I have to get my hustle on.

BPS will not defeat me. They want me to beg for my job. They want to see me a crumpled mess. I will not give them the satisfaction. I come from a long line of Black women who survived so that the next generation could live. I will not let my mother, grandmother, and the other women in my family down. I’m not a quitter.

As Diddy said once, “I gotta make a way outta no way.”