I left my teaching job after 8 years and became a ski instructor. I get to teach without the anxiety of a classroom.
Courtesy of the author
- After being a teacher for eight years, I quit my job.
- At age 30, I realized I couldn't keep walking into class with anxiety about what I was going to find
- I decided to become a ski instructor, where I can still use my teaching skills.
After eight years in the classroom, I turned in my teaching badge and picked up a ski pass.
Turning 30, I began to look at my life and question if I wanted to stay in the teaching profession for the long haul. With no desire to go the administrative route to becoming a principal, the thought of paying for graduate school for nothing more than a pay increase left me feeling like I was at the end of the teaching career road.
Like many other educators, I was recognized for my teaching skills with more work, difficult kids, and parents treating me more like their kid's personal assistant than a teacher. I'd walk into my class every morning with slight anxiety about angry emails from parents demanding study guides and questioning project rubrics.
Feeling burned out and broke, I decided to abandon the classroom. Leaving teaching wasn't just a career shift but a decision to reclaim joy and rediscover purpose in a new way.
I decided to use my teaching skills in a new environment
Unsure of my next career move, I became a ski instructor. A job where I can use my teaching skills in a new environment. As a ski instructor, I connect with kids as they learn new skills and see the joy on their faces when they finally master a steep hill.
Seeing kids light up with learning is long gone from teaching as kids simply want to know, "Will this be on the test?" and adjust their memorization accordingly.
While helping young children with ski clothes and getting their boots clipped into their skis can be tiresome, it is nowhere near the frustration I felt using outdated technology in the classroom on spotty internet. I no longer spend my days trying to help kids log into various platforms and troubleshoot computer issues but instead show them how to navigate the slopes and find their self-confidence.
I miss my colleagues
While I miss colleagues and the feeling of belonging to school, the ski industry is a tight-knit community filled with people looking to share the joy of skiing. The ski instructing industry is filled with easily available resources through training, workshops, and mentorship. I feel equipped with a variety of resources to do my job.
This was a stark contrast to the classroom days when I was making do with what I had. I taught without textbooks and was left to find my own resources online. While administrative staff always supported me in the classroom, they were just as overwhelmed and under-resourced as I was and could only do so much.
A bad ski day is still a good day
Teaching kids to ski comes with its own rough days, like when a kid doesn't quite make it to the bathroom in time, or the temperatures hit the single digits.
I'm exhausted at the end of the ski season and need a good month to recover, but even a rough day on the ski hill fails compared to an average week in the classroom.
My mental health is better; I'm outside and active. I still get to connect with kids and see them grow. I get to walk alongside kids as they conquer their fear of skiing down the big hill for the first time or riding the ski lift. Parents respect and appreciate my evaluations of the kids' progress. They accept my remarks on their skills and whether they are ready for the next level.
Every August, when I see the back-to-school supplies roll out in stores, a piece of my heart misses the classroom and the coworkers I had. But my life is healthier now, and I'm reminded about the parts I loved most about teaching that I wasn't getting to do. But on the ski hill, my passion for teaching continues.
I don't know if I will ever step back into the classroom or how long I will call the wide-open ski slopes my office. But for now, I will be holding my lessons among the rocky mountains, where the scent of fresh pine wafts through the air as I guide my students down the mountain.