Like many people across the world right now, I've been pretty obsessed with the movie Encanto. While, I've only seen it once in theaters, I have listened to the soundtrack on repeat on my way to and from work. While I can sing along to most of the songs, the one that I gravitate toward over and over again is the song called "Surface Pressure." As a teacher and an older sibling, I have often felt like Luisa's character, working to carry as much as I can and to be of service as many as I can. I was always piling more onto my plate, whether it was asked of me of not. This school year, I got crushed under the weight.
In high school, I was part of almost every club I could join. I stayed at the school until dinner time almost every night. I put in so many hours on extra projects like the yearbook and senior video. When I got to college, just taking classes didn't seem like I was working hard enough, so I joined the honors program and residential hall councils and became a tour guide. I stayed up all night so many times because that paper or project wasn't "the best it could be." I was always helping friends or siblings write their papers too.
The late nights didn't end at college graduation. During the past 7 years of teaching (always at Title 1 schools), I have spent most of my nights worried about my students. How can I help them learn? What can I do to be a better teacher for them? Do they have a safe place to eat and sleep tonight? I've woken up in the middle of the night to rewrite lesson plans for the following day. As I moved up to leadership roles at my school districts, my concern transferred to helping teachers too. Teachers would ask me for materials or how to do certain tasks or often would just need me to come and listen to them vent.
Don't get me wrong, I didn't feel miserable throughout all of this service work. I prided myself on being there for everyone as much as possible. When I filled out bios on social media or dating apps, I always listed "Teacher" first. It has been the title I have loved about myself for so long. So, as I sat in a theater in November, after a particularly overwhelming month at work, and I heard Luisa sing, "I'm pretty sure I'm worthless if I can't be of service", it really hit home. I actually remember being startled by those words. That's how I felt. I felt like my entire self-worth hinged on how much I could help.
Later in Luisa's song she says, "Line up the dominoes. A light wind blows. You try to stop it tumbling. But on and on it goes." That's been my school year. It wasn't one big event that made me want to quit. But I've been trying to pick up those dominoes all year, but the wind has been relentless. So I started applying for other jobs. I knew I needed to get out of this cycle of tumbling down. The decision to apply elsewhere didn't make me feel any less guilty or lost. I told a friend once, "I think I'm going to lose my identity if I'm not a teacher. I'm going to lose my purpose." The friend said, "Maybe you should stop worrying about what you might lose. What might you gain?"
Luisa had the same thought:
"If I could shake the crushing weight of expectations
Would that free some room up for joy
Or relaxation, or simple pleasure?
So this week, I start anew. I took a job as Associate Customer Success Manager for an educational publishing company. I will definitely lose some huge parts of my life, but instead of loss, I'm trying to think of it as "shaking it off" to make room for better things. Wish me luck.
