Thanksgiving weekend, 2016.
I was reeling from the Presidential election result, and not only because I was worried about the future of the country: I saw the handwriting on the wall that my current career might be over.
There were some ominous signs that things might take a turn for the worse. After 17 years of full-time magazine freelancing and 12 previous years in newspaper and wire service newsrooms, I could see clear signs that my industry was changing. Newspapers were shutting down. Long-time reporters were flooding the freelance market. And there were two other disturbing trends. One was that bloggers, who I call, "self-styled journalists," were trying to fashion themselves as legitimate news reporters, despite not having solid news gathering experience or training. They were muddying the validity of the news cycle. As a result, the industry was taking a serious credibility hit. The other looming issue was that I had spent the election cycle observing Trump and his treatment of the media, starting with Jorge Ramos at that infamous news conference. Here, I thought, was a Captain of Industry, accustomed to having people kowtow to his whims and wishes. Here was a future authoritarian, not a democratic President. Trump was already attacking members in my profession, accusing them of producing stories that were "fake news" (what a laugh). If he consolidated power, as I suspected he would with a GOP-led Congress, the free press could become a vapid memory of bygone days.
And then there were some other practical issues I was facing. As a self-employed freelancer, I heavily relied on the Obamacare subsidies for my health insurance. I also am now over age 50 (gasp!) and worried about being diagnosed with a pre-existing condition. If Republicans made their threat good to sweep away my health care protections, I would be a sitting duck.
What to do?
I spent the month of November and early December 2016 pondering all of this. Then, one Sunday in early December last year, I attended a family dinner. My dilemma became a topic of table discussion.
"I've always thought you'd be a great teacher," someone said.
Everyone around the table nodded.
I thought about that. Throughout my adulthood, I've spent time volunteering as Sunday School teacher, usually with teenagers and young adults. I thought about how I especially loved being around middle schoolers.
"The problem," I told my family, "is that I would need to go back to school to get a teaching certification. At my age? Everyone would laugh."
"Try substitute teaching first," someone said. "See if you like it, and then cross that bridge later."
It was worth a shot. I could keep freelancing while substituting on the side, and if I hated it, I could cross that option off of my list.
I applied to my local school district, which had a shortage on substitute teachers, and I was accepted immediately. On my first day of work in February 2017, I came home completely exhausted -- and completely elated. I'd spent the full day substituting with non-verbal special needs elementary school children. One wanted to just hold my hand and walk in a circle on the playground perimeter during the full 30 minutes of recess. Saying nothing, we walked round and round as his tiny, chubby hand held mine in a tight clasp. I felt like I shouldn't even be paid for the privilege of spending time among such precious and innocent souls.
The next day, I was in an inner-city elementary school, with 33 raucous third graders. I played classical music as they entered and jumped into the teacher's lesson plan. The school principal came into the classroom and sat in the back (not intimidating at all!) and asked me who I was and where I had come from. "This is my second day substituting," I whispered to her. "I don't know what I'm doing." Her jaw dropped. "I thought you were an experienced teacher!" she exclaimed.
Later, one of my trouble makers in the classroom tapped me on the shoulder.
"I heard you tell the principal you were new," she said. Then she smiled broadly. "Guuuuuuuuuurl! You somethin' else!" She laughed as she trotted away back to her desk and started working feverishly on a worksheet I had given them.
That was all it took. I was hooked.
I spent the next four months traveling around the district. I decided to "try out" every age group, every socio-economic variety of school, every intellectual level (gifted versus non-verbal special needs, to "average" kiddo). I was in kindergarten and pre-school classes. I was in special needs rooms. I was at elementary, middle and high school. I was in the richest neighborhoods and the poorest alike.
In addition, I had picked up a part-time job at Junior Achievement, helping 5th graders learn how to run a newspaper in an imaginary town called, "BizTown."
I had a strategy after those first two days: The first part of the winter, I would rely on freelancing for 90 percent of my income and teaching for 10 percent. The second part of the winter, I would go 50-50. And by spring, I would rely on teaching for 90 percent of my income and freelancing for 10 percent. I decided that I would ease into this slowly, to make certain this was the right move for me.
By March, I had achieved the 50-50 ratio, and by May, I was at 90 percent teaching and 10 percent freelancing.
In July, I interviewed for a "paraeducator" special needs position at my son's former middle school. It would involve assisting special needs teachers. I landed the job and started in August with a room of some non-verbal autistic students and others who were high on the spectrum but verbal. Two weeks later, the school transferred me to work exclusively with two autistic children. I follow them to their classes and assist them so that they can complete work alongside everyone else. It is the most fulfilling thing I've done since I was a cub reporter at my first newspaper at age 23.
And yes, I am still freelancing.
I whittled my freelance client list down to three key clients. I chose them because 1) They pay well, 2) The editors treat me professionally and 3) They pay on time -- a magic combination.
Ironically, 75 percent of my income still comes from my freelance clients. I spend my nights and weekends reporting and writing, although it's about 25 percent of my work time. And 25 percent of my income comes from my new teaching job. I spend 75 percent of my work time with the children.
It doesn't matter. I have achieved a balance in which the writing still supports my cost of living, and I can enter a new field and help make my tiny corner of the world a better place.
Oh. And the teaching job also provides an amazing health insurance package that costs one-fourth of the cost of what I was paying under Obamacare. The benefits are astounding, and I also have the support of a teachers' union, which provides more perks.
After working solo in my home for 17 years full-time, this also has opened my world to a different type of workplace, where the goal is to bring up an educated and kinder generation. The past three months have been nothing short of incredible for me.
So what are my next steps? Originally, I was going to head back to school this fall, but I wanted to see how I would first manage my new full-time job and freelancing. Now that I have a handle on the physical toll (it's exhausting), I will probably hold off until the summer months, when I'm off, to start on my Master's degree. I'd like to get a Master's in learning behavior disabled children and continue working with troubled kids on the middle school level. I intend on continuing to freelance as my income needs demand it, but hopefully will transition eventually into a full-time teaching job after my school work is completed.
Some people might say that after a certain age, life is over. I'd say a new chapter in my life is beginning again. My son, who has Asperger's Syndrome, is also doing exceptionally well in the International Baccalaureate Programme at his high school as a freshman. This is a transitional time for both of us, but very exciting.
My story here isn't to discourage anyone from entering the news media profession. I have had a fulfilling journey as a journalist and later, magazine writer. Writing is still very much a part of my life and my personality. But so is the joy I am deriving from teaching young minds. I look forward to every day with a smile on my face and hope in my heart.
A year does make a big difference.
Huge.
I was reeling from the Presidential election result, and not only because I was worried about the future of the country: I saw the handwriting on the wall that my current career might be over.
There were some ominous signs that things might take a turn for the worse. After 17 years of full-time magazine freelancing and 12 previous years in newspaper and wire service newsrooms, I could see clear signs that my industry was changing. Newspapers were shutting down. Long-time reporters were flooding the freelance market. And there were two other disturbing trends. One was that bloggers, who I call, "self-styled journalists," were trying to fashion themselves as legitimate news reporters, despite not having solid news gathering experience or training. They were muddying the validity of the news cycle. As a result, the industry was taking a serious credibility hit. The other looming issue was that I had spent the election cycle observing Trump and his treatment of the media, starting with Jorge Ramos at that infamous news conference. Here, I thought, was a Captain of Industry, accustomed to having people kowtow to his whims and wishes. Here was a future authoritarian, not a democratic President. Trump was already attacking members in my profession, accusing them of producing stories that were "fake news" (what a laugh). If he consolidated power, as I suspected he would with a GOP-led Congress, the free press could become a vapid memory of bygone days.
And then there were some other practical issues I was facing. As a self-employed freelancer, I heavily relied on the Obamacare subsidies for my health insurance. I also am now over age 50 (gasp!) and worried about being diagnosed with a pre-existing condition. If Republicans made their threat good to sweep away my health care protections, I would be a sitting duck.
What to do?
I spent the month of November and early December 2016 pondering all of this. Then, one Sunday in early December last year, I attended a family dinner. My dilemma became a topic of table discussion.
"I've always thought you'd be a great teacher," someone said.
Everyone around the table nodded.
I thought about that. Throughout my adulthood, I've spent time volunteering as Sunday School teacher, usually with teenagers and young adults. I thought about how I especially loved being around middle schoolers.
"The problem," I told my family, "is that I would need to go back to school to get a teaching certification. At my age? Everyone would laugh."
"Try substitute teaching first," someone said. "See if you like it, and then cross that bridge later."
It was worth a shot. I could keep freelancing while substituting on the side, and if I hated it, I could cross that option off of my list.
I applied to my local school district, which had a shortage on substitute teachers, and I was accepted immediately. On my first day of work in February 2017, I came home completely exhausted -- and completely elated. I'd spent the full day substituting with non-verbal special needs elementary school children. One wanted to just hold my hand and walk in a circle on the playground perimeter during the full 30 minutes of recess. Saying nothing, we walked round and round as his tiny, chubby hand held mine in a tight clasp. I felt like I shouldn't even be paid for the privilege of spending time among such precious and innocent souls.
The next day, I was in an inner-city elementary school, with 33 raucous third graders. I played classical music as they entered and jumped into the teacher's lesson plan. The school principal came into the classroom and sat in the back (not intimidating at all!) and asked me who I was and where I had come from. "This is my second day substituting," I whispered to her. "I don't know what I'm doing." Her jaw dropped. "I thought you were an experienced teacher!" she exclaimed.
Later, one of my trouble makers in the classroom tapped me on the shoulder.
"I heard you tell the principal you were new," she said. Then she smiled broadly. "Guuuuuuuuuurl! You somethin' else!" She laughed as she trotted away back to her desk and started working feverishly on a worksheet I had given them.
That was all it took. I was hooked.
I spent the next four months traveling around the district. I decided to "try out" every age group, every socio-economic variety of school, every intellectual level (gifted versus non-verbal special needs, to "average" kiddo). I was in kindergarten and pre-school classes. I was in special needs rooms. I was at elementary, middle and high school. I was in the richest neighborhoods and the poorest alike.
In addition, I had picked up a part-time job at Junior Achievement, helping 5th graders learn how to run a newspaper in an imaginary town called, "BizTown."
I had a strategy after those first two days: The first part of the winter, I would rely on freelancing for 90 percent of my income and teaching for 10 percent. The second part of the winter, I would go 50-50. And by spring, I would rely on teaching for 90 percent of my income and freelancing for 10 percent. I decided that I would ease into this slowly, to make certain this was the right move for me.
By March, I had achieved the 50-50 ratio, and by May, I was at 90 percent teaching and 10 percent freelancing.
In July, I interviewed for a "paraeducator" special needs position at my son's former middle school. It would involve assisting special needs teachers. I landed the job and started in August with a room of some non-verbal autistic students and others who were high on the spectrum but verbal. Two weeks later, the school transferred me to work exclusively with two autistic children. I follow them to their classes and assist them so that they can complete work alongside everyone else. It is the most fulfilling thing I've done since I was a cub reporter at my first newspaper at age 23.
And yes, I am still freelancing.
I whittled my freelance client list down to three key clients. I chose them because 1) They pay well, 2) The editors treat me professionally and 3) They pay on time -- a magic combination.
Ironically, 75 percent of my income still comes from my freelance clients. I spend my nights and weekends reporting and writing, although it's about 25 percent of my work time. And 25 percent of my income comes from my new teaching job. I spend 75 percent of my work time with the children.
It doesn't matter. I have achieved a balance in which the writing still supports my cost of living, and I can enter a new field and help make my tiny corner of the world a better place.
Oh. And the teaching job also provides an amazing health insurance package that costs one-fourth of the cost of what I was paying under Obamacare. The benefits are astounding, and I also have the support of a teachers' union, which provides more perks.
After working solo in my home for 17 years full-time, this also has opened my world to a different type of workplace, where the goal is to bring up an educated and kinder generation. The past three months have been nothing short of incredible for me.
So what are my next steps? Originally, I was going to head back to school this fall, but I wanted to see how I would first manage my new full-time job and freelancing. Now that I have a handle on the physical toll (it's exhausting), I will probably hold off until the summer months, when I'm off, to start on my Master's degree. I'd like to get a Master's in learning behavior disabled children and continue working with troubled kids on the middle school level. I intend on continuing to freelance as my income needs demand it, but hopefully will transition eventually into a full-time teaching job after my school work is completed.
Some people might say that after a certain age, life is over. I'd say a new chapter in my life is beginning again. My son, who has Asperger's Syndrome, is also doing exceptionally well in the International Baccalaureate Programme at his high school as a freshman. This is a transitional time for both of us, but very exciting.
My story here isn't to discourage anyone from entering the news media profession. I have had a fulfilling journey as a journalist and later, magazine writer. Writing is still very much a part of my life and my personality. But so is the joy I am deriving from teaching young minds. I look forward to every day with a smile on my face and hope in my heart.
A year does make a big difference.
Huge.
No comments:
Post a Comment