Change for change’s sake

My 7th and 8th grade art teacher is finally retiring after this year from my “other school” (the one I travel to for one period a day). She clearly has a lot of anxiety about leaving her program and very much wants to find someone to fill her spot sooner rather than later so she has some time to show this person the ropes.

She somehow got it into her head that I would be the perfect person to replace her, even though I don’t have a credential in teaching art, and have only taught it once a long time ago (for a couple of years).

I don’t want to just turn her down, because she was my very favorite teacher in middle school and her class brought me the only joy those two years afforded me, so I’ve actually thought about it a bit. It would mean I’d get to stay at one school all the time…

But I’m pretty sure I am not an art teacher. I’ve taught Spanish for 15 years, and for all the angst I have about whether or not I should stay at my job, I’ve never really considered teaching anything else.

And yet… I have another one of those professional developments this Saturday and I find the thoughts fueled by imposter syndrome rearing their ugly heads again. My best friend at work will be looking for a high school job in the spring and I am reminded that I will most likely be stuck where I am forever. If I taught art, I wouldn’t have to take a pay cut, or lose any of the perks I’ve earned with my seniority, and I’d still get to start over.

I really don’t know. I’m realizing, as I consider (however tenuously) the possibility, how much of my identity is wrapped up in teaching Spanish. Not just professionally but personally. I have really enjoyed learning the language all these years, constantly striving to get better. And yet, there is a part of me that feels like I will never reach the level of fluency I hope to achieve – that it will forever be a goal out of my reach. How frustrating will that be?

When I saw my high school Spanish teacher at the professional development last month, he asked me if I spoke to my kids in Spanish. I said that I tried, but that I wasn’t very consistent. He agreed that it’s hard, and admitted that to him (he is not a native speaker either) it feels artificial, like he’s forcing something that will never come naturally.

That really rang true to me, and as I heard it I knew he was putting words to a feeling I have never been able to articulate.

How many times have I written hear about dissatisfaction and my job? So. Many. Times. Can I really just walk away from this without thinking it through? And how do I consider it seriously when I have no idea what it might even mean?

I do love Spanish in a way I love few things in life. I adore the language, and when I’m understanding it, or speaking it, I feel like it’s almost a super power. There is part of me that revels in the reality that I will always be a student of it, that there will always be something more to learn.

But there are also parts of me that wonder what I’m really doing, wondering if I’ll regret chasing after a muse I may never catch.

And of course, even if I wanted the job, the administrators might not give it to me. I don’t have the right credential, and if I taught art they’d have to find someone else to teach Spanish…

When I think about teaching art it doesn’t make me all that excited. Mostly I am considering the possibility of a change, because I plan to reach for 20 more years and the thought of doing this for that much longer is stifling. Change can be really important, especially for me, and I feel like I have to at least think about it. These opportunities don’t come around every day.