“It’s not a matter of time, it’s a matter of choice. How do you spend your choices? ~Beverly Adamo
When you reach a certain stage in life, choices seem to become increasingly irreversible. It’s as if they were carved in stone.
No matter how many inspirational posts about following your own schedule and going at your own pace cross your Instagram wall.
No matter how hard you try to convince yourself, it’s never too late to start a new career, move into a new house, or find the right person. It’s not that you don’t believe it – it just doesn’t work for you. It’s okay for others to follow their dreams and dance to their own drum. But not for you.
You feel like you’re back in school again, falling behind.
The more you tell yourself that you don’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations, the more you realize that the only person you’re afraid of disappointing is the person looking at you in the mirror..
I once heard this song,
I woke up in the middle of the night
I seem to be able to feel time flowing
I did it. I literally woke up at 3:00 AM with questions in my mind.
And thinking that everything I did was right! I graduated, moved in with my boyfriend, and started working as a teacher. My resume is spotless.
Still, I’m fascinated by the idea of time moving. Time inexorably reached this point, after which I had no choice but to stop viewing my situation as temporary and accept the fact that I don’t have any better ideas in my head and I’m stuck That.
and my daily life in the classroom.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not one of those people who ended up teaching because they couldn’t find a better job. Instead, teaching has always been my passion. This is still true.
On the other hand, classrooms…
There wasn’t a day in my four years as a teacher that I really thought this might be the thing for me in the long run. Not once.
There are bad days and there are good days. “Easy” lessons, difficult lessons. Small victories, day after day of defeat. Parents who wanted to sue me and students who wanted me to adopt them—one of those end-of-school-year letters still hangs on my refrigerator. But every day, I know I hope this is just temporary.
I don’t want to be in a classroom forever.
It’s hard to pin down it. All I want to do is be myself and teach what I love. However, as a teacher, you and your students do not exist in a bubble. You are deeply intertwined with the complex, emotionally charged environment of your classroom. So, you’re forced to play this role teacher.
The difference with me is, teacher Able to solve relevant pressing problems. I knew that most of the courses I had to teach, and the way I had to teach them, were so far removed from the reality of my students that no amount of interactive lesson planning and student-centered approaches could help me get on point.
as teacher, I should feel comfortable with the character, identify with it, and not question it every step of the way. I just don’t feel at ease. I always felt complete as a facilitator, as a guide, as a mentor—not as a teacher. As much as I admire and respect those who do, I am unable to do so.
I really, really tried everything I could to solve my problem.
I tried to fake it until I made it. I read all the books. Attended all courses. Shared my thoughts.
Whenever I tell someone how I feel, they answer all the right things.
It’s just the first few years until you get used to it, which I’m sure was true for me.
You’re actually doing something for the kids, you’re making a difference – I have no doubt that the teachers Do Make a difference. Just don’t I.
You need to accept the fact that no matter what your job is, it’s not supposed to be fun or fulfilling. But, as whiny as it sounds, it’s exactly what I need.
Maybe not perfect, maybe not idyllic, but Please, please, please Not without meaning.
Then the thought that intrudes is, “What, because you’re special? Because you’re too good to live like everyone else day in and day out?
I’m always worried that it’s going to be difficult for me, and I really want it to work, so when I go into the classroom every day, that feeling of having to crawl into someone else’s skin – I just try to push that aside. Swallow it and cheer yourself up.
Still, it’s there, and the only way to stop it is to think it might be temporary after all.
Until you find a better job.
Until you come up with something else.
Until you find out what’s wrong with you.
The only thing that distracts me is studying. I would go home and study, try to keep my mind alive, try to keep it dreaming, try to keep it learning.
I invested time and money and used up all my energy. I had always been tired of the struggle of being a full-time student on top of a full-time job. Luckily I had the support of my boyfriend (later husband) who had no idea what it all meant but could tell I needed it.
However, I don’t have a project. i long for significance. I need to learn something that feels like something real Big book.
That’s how I started delving into languages. It’s something that feels relevant and immediate. You can learn and use it immediately. You can communicate – something I couldn’t do in classroom teaching.
I passed the exam. I passed more exams. I keep piling up certificates and praying that one day it will all start A bit Looks like a plan. Before it was too late, before I had to admit that I was just an overachieving, overqualified teacher.
I know the dangers – some people, when they’re unhappy, give up and become negative. Others, like me, are the opposite. They stay put because as long as you’re busy, you don’t have to face the reality of how you feel.
This is what hits me every time I wake up at three in the morning. How long will it take before I change track? How long until it’s too late for me?
I seem to be able to feel time flowing…
I wish I could tell you that I finally found my way and that it was a success story. The truth is, I don’t know if that will be the case.
Last Christmas I suddenly realized that I had run out of sand in my hourglass. All I know is that if I set foot in a classroom again in September, it will no longer be temporary. I felt like this was my last chance to try and do something different before giving up completely.
I no longer wait for the universe to reveal its mysterious plan, but take my destiny into my own hands. Teaching outside of the classroom is something I have always vaguely wanted to do but didn’t dare to do.
What if I’m not good enough?
What if I don’t make enough money?
What if it feels worse than in the classroom?
What if my Plan B goes haywire too? Then what?
All I could say in the end was, “To hell with it.” There’s got to be a grain of truth to those inspirational posts on Instagram, right?
As of right now, I’m trying to build a career as an adult tutor and language teacher, but I don’t know if I’ll be successful.
I closed my eyes and jumped right in, expecting the water to be ice cold, but it wasn’t. I braced myself for the anxiety that this new uncertainty would bring, only to find that I actually felt at peace.
There were plans to make, problems to solve, no financial stability, and no guarantee of success—something my perfectionist self had trouble managing. Still, it felt far less daunting and threatening than the time slowly eating away at me.
I wish I could tell you there’s a moral to this story.
You should stop listening to good advice and common sense and just follow your gut, you might be surprised by the unexpected support you receive or how little support you need.
You shouldn’t try to be someone you’re not at all costs.
There are many ways to find meaning, but no one can tell you how to do it yourself.
Sometimes it takes more courage to give up than to keep doing something until it becomes a routine.
But to be honest, I didn’t feel like I had the courage to change my path. It’s not about choosing the easiest or hardest thing, it’s about choosing the honest thing.
I wish I could tell you that I no longer wake up in the middle of the night, but the truth is, I do because I’m so immersed in this new adventure that I literally can’t stop jotting down ideas and looking for job opportunities.
I know I don’t have to prove myself to anyone, and I know I can’t help but feel like I should, and that’s okay too.
I knew I might fail, but I wasn’t bold enough to say I didn’t care if I failed. I actually care a lot.
But one thing is for sure – I no longer live in fear of the passage of time.
About Federica Minozzi
Federica Minozzi (Instagram @federica.minozziteaching) lives in Italy. She is a physicist and teacher of Italian, English and German. She is a freelance online tutor who organizes courses on languages and language learning. She is also passionate about science education and communication, weightlifting, writing, learning, and self-development. She has an Italian YouTube channel (@LangolodellaProf) about learning methods.
