In March, I received the catastrophic news that the school I’ve dedicated the past thirteen years of my life to will close forever in June. The reasons don’t matter.
What matters is that our students will be forced to transition into schools that may not meet their needs, and many of our staff will be forced into roles below their qualifications. The hard work that my colleagues and I put into making this year and next year the best yet will all come to naught.
I could say a lot more.
I could complain about how representatives from Vermont’s Agency of Education told me not to worry about my students’ futures because they are no longer my legal responsibility.
I could moan about the system forcing teachers to teach grade-level content to students who are not yet capable of understanding it, ignoring the concept of “appropriate” education when it comes to providing FAPE to special-education students.
I could cry about the reality that some of our society’s most impressive and sensitive educators don’t have the time or money to take the college courses required to become legally qualified teachers.
I could rail against the lack of special-education support in our schools, how independent schools are held to a higher standard than public schools, or the way administrators allow the vagaries of technical systems to prevent them from doing what is best for the child in front of them.
But what would be the point? In three weeks, the school I’ve helped lead for thirteen years will be closed, and I can do nothing — absolutely nothing — to change it.
Thankfully, I found a new opportunity that aligns with my passion for progressive education. In June, I will start a new job as the Manager of Operations for a business that provides a flexible, Waldorf-inspired education for independent learners in preschool through grade 12. They offer a curriculum that homeschoolers can use independently or through enrollment in their teacher-supported distance-learning school.
I had initially applied to become the school’s next Director of Marketing and Communications, but after my interview, they made a different suggestion. They’d been talking about needing someone to help them with their operations, but they hadn’t quite nailed down what they wanted the person to do. After our conversation, they thought I might be the right person to help them figure it out. They brought me in for a more extended conversation and, a few days later, offered me a job with the caveat that one of my primary responsibilities would be to define the rest of my major responsibilities.
The new position has hybrid work hours. Some days, I’ll be in the office; others, I’ll work from home. This is crucial because the office is 90 minutes from my house and requires me to drive up and over the Green Mountains. It’s a long drive, but between podcasts, audiobooks, and the beauty of the Vermont landscape, I’m looking forward to it.
Yes, I’m deeply sad about the end of my current job, but I’m also quite excited about the next one. My new employer has been in business for fifty years, but thanks to all the issues in public education referenced above, its growth potential is perhaps the best it’s ever been. I’m delighted to bring a fresh set of eyes to their processes, collaborate with a new team of passionate and dedicated colleagues, and learn the ins and outs of a new business.
While saying goodbye to a place I love is hard, I’m ready to embrace what lies ahead. One chapter may have ended, but a new, exciting journey is just beginning.