Iām jumping ship, and I canāt help but feel guilty.Ā
A few weeks ago, I signed a contract to teach at a school in Taiwan after I graduate, and at first, I was over the moon excited. Iāve wanted to teach abroad since I decided to be an education major back in 2020, and Iāve wanted to travel the world since I got my first taste of international traveling at age 17. But now, I look around at the state of our nation and I am overwhelmed with a sense of guilt at the thought of leaving. I joked once to my mom āIf he wins again, Iāll literally leave the country.ā And here we are, about a week after his inauguration, and I am in fact planning to leave the country.Ā
Iāve spent hours upon hours at Illinois State learning to become a teacher who is committed to socially just ELA practices. Iāve been preparing to teach in an environment where I can have books with queer characters, where I can teach Shakespeare and highlight how amazing he was but also how much of a raging woman-hater he was. Iāve been planning to be the kind of teacher who sheds light on the injustices in this country all while teaching the kids how to write a kick-ass essay. And on November 6th that plan cracked a little bit. Then, when I saw who the secretary of education would be, I couldnāt decide if I wanted to laugh or cry, but still I held on. Finally, my dream of being this progressive teacher whose classroom is a safe space to talk about the hard things like racism, homophobia, and sexism shattered the second he took office and began signing those executive orders. My hope of having a physically safe classroom in this country has been long gone. But now, so is the dream of having an educationally safe classroom- if that even makes sense. And now Iām left fearing not for myself, but for the friends Iāll be leaving behind.Ā
It feels like a betrayal in some way, to take my degree and run. To take what my professors have instilled in me and quite literally abandon ship. Shouldnāt I be staying? Shouldnāt I be hunkering down in my small town and defending the right to be a true educator with all my might? I should be standing on a desk, Dead Poets Society style, inspiring students in this crumbling nation to become change-makers, activists, and most importantly, empathetic souls- right?
And if Iām being honest, what scares me most in this life is becoming stagnant. I come from a town of less than 600 people, and some of them have never left the state, let alone left the country. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with finding your home, finding someone to love, and building a life together right in the same town where you grew up, I just donāt want that to be me, at least not yet. That first trip across the pond back in 2019 sparked something in me, some sort of hunger to see more, and do more. This urge to leave the nest is nothing new, so why does it feel like Iām cheating on America?Ā
Selfishly, Iām afraid if I donāt leave now, I never will. I could very easily see myself staying here, making promises to myself like āJust these next four years, and then Iāll teach abroad.ā But I also know deep down that if I stay for even just those four years, Iāll grow roots too deep to dig up and Iāll never want to leave my little town again. But I owe it to myself and to 17-year-old me to take this job and get one step closer to being a certifiable āworld travelerā.Ā
It feels like itās now or never. And while a small, evil part of me is relieved to be moving across the world and away from this country, a larger, much louder part of me is beyond terrified for what the future holds for all my wonderful friends in the education field. I have no doubt they will handle whatever this presidential administration throws at them, and they will do so with the same commitment to being an equitable educator that I have. If anything, theyāll probably handle it with much more grace and patience than I would. Iām sad I wonāt be there to watch them become the bad-ass teachers I know theyāll be, but as Gabriella said in High School Musical 2, I gotta go my own way.