Working in corporate America burned me out, so I became an elementary school teacher

• For 16 years, I worked in the billing department of a construction company.
• My days were filled with meetings and long emails, and eventually, I decided to quit.

Sixteen years is a long time. From 2004 until 2020, I worked as a billing specialist in the finance department of a nationwide construction company.

As in many corporate jobs, my work was filled with unnecessary meetings run by leaders who enjoyed nothing more than hearing themselves speak, unfathomably long emails, and micromanagement, even though I was told repeatedly that the company definitely does not micromanage workers.

Still, I persisted. Despite my best efforts to advance within the company, I found myself trapped in a role that offered no growth. Being highly skilled in a role that few people want often means you're stuck in that role, regardless of your aspirations.

My family was full of educators

Within my extended family, the career of choice tended to be that of an educator. Although a few of us took different routes, I had several times over the years considered answering the clarion call of the teacher. But with a wife and four kids to support, it seemed impractical.

My perspective began to change in 2015. After spending 40-odd years driving a concrete truck, my father retired. Not one to sit around, we were all amazed when my dad announced he was hired as a teaching assistant at his district's tech school. A lifelong mechanic, my father was finding fulfillment in providing support in a small engine repair classroom.

Inspired by his career change, I decided it was time for my own career change. I found a two-year program at a local university that would get me a teaching certificate and my Master's in Education. I started the program in 2019 and found myself in the uncomfortable position of being a student again.

I went back to school

The program I enrolled in was a hybrid model that consisted of in-person and online classes. That changed entirely in early 2020 because of the COVID-19 pandemic. The program switched to being entirely online. What was supposed to be four months of in-school teaching turned out to be months of Zoom meetings and pre-recorded lessons.

I persevered, and in December 2020, I graduated with a Master's in Education. A few months later, I passed my certification tests and became a teacher. My first position in my brand-new career began as a substitute teacher in the elementary school I attended as a child. One of those in the "right place at the wrong time" type of situations, I found myself in a sixth-grade classroom of a teacher who unexpectedly went out on maternity leave just as the year began.

Teaching was one of the hardest things I've done

When I state that teaching sixth grade was one of the hardest things I had to do, it's no exaggeration. During our first full year out of the COVID-19 pandemic, students were unaccustomed to in-person school. After a year of Chromebook schooling at home, students clearly were not ready for the more rigorous demands of in-person instruction.

The one who was the most ill-prepared, however, was myself. While I hadn't worked in the corporate world for over a year, I still hadn't let go of many things that had been instilled in me — paranoia, distrust of people, micromanagement, and limited autonomy.

But the biggest change for me was going from a cold, calculated environment to one where I was now in charge of 20-plus young souls. It was now my job to teach, entertain, keep in line, and provide emotional support to students, guiding them through their academic and personal growth with empathy and dedication. It was a change that took several years to work through and accept.

In my fourth year of education, I've found myself working in a great elementary school with an equally wonderful staff and an administration that appears to appreciate my work. While I still occasionally have bouts of imposter syndrome, I've come to accept my new career and enjoy the relationships I'm forging with my students.

I'm not sure I'll ever be able to stop looking over my shoulder, though.