Unconventional
Teacher
When many people think of
elementary school teachers, they think of bubbly, happy, kind women. Though I
am kind, I am by no means bubbly and sometimes I'm not even happy. I suffer
from major depressive disorder, OCD, and crippling anxiety. There are days that
I wonder if I am cut out for this. I have always wanted to badly to become a
teacher, but my goal was high school students with mental disabilities; in
Kentucky there is not a school where you can major in this so I started my
journey as a special education: learning and behavioral disorders major. Elementary school students with no disability
is a whole different world.
At this point, you may be
wondering why I'm attending school to become an elementary school teacher if it
isn't what I want or what I started school majoring in. Well the answer is that
I was forced to change my major. Before this year, when I would get too
depressed or stressed I would shut down. I wouldn't leave my room for the most
part and I would sleep my life away. Because of this, I failed two classes, one
class two times and the other three. These classes are required in the major I
was in. Despite my depression, I wasn't allowed to retake these courses.
Without them however, I couldn't complete my degree, even though I was just two
semesters away from graduation. The only way I could continue on the path to
getting any teaching degree, continuing on the path to reach my dream, was to
change to elementary education.
I
know that makes it seem like the people here at EKU aren’t sympathetic to
mental diseases. This however, is not the case. There is an office for students
with disabilities that any student with the need can register with. I had never
been sent there before. Before last year, I didn’t even know that my
depression, anxiety, and OCD were considered a disability. I knew it was a
problem in my own life, but I never considered that it could be the reason that
I struggled with school. I just assumed I was having another depressive
episode.
I
discovered my depression was a disability the day that I was kicked out of my
program. I knew that failing was a problem, but I wasn’t aware I would be
kicked out for it. My GPA has always been relatively good. I was never on
academic probation. I was told I needed to set up a meeting with Dr. Maloley,
she was taking over for the man who had been promoted to interim dean. The day
of the meeting I showed up wearing and EKU shirt to show I was dedicated to
continuing my education at this university. I waited for her to get off the
phone and she called me in. When I sat down my heart started pounding and I got
really nervous. Dr. Maloley was not smiling and she did not seem to be very
welcoming. I sat across from her and had to listen to her tell me my dream was
over. She told me I should’ve known this was coming. That it didn’t matter that
I had the depression, I wasn’t registered with the office for students with
disabilities. She told me I couldn’t continue in my program. The worst things
she said to me, she told me I should consider not even becoming a teacher, and
she said “put your big girl panties on and tell your parents.”
I
left that meeting hysterical. I thought I would be reprimanded, or put on probation.
I thought maybe I’d be put on academic suspension as a worst case scenario.
This wasn’t what happened however, and I no longer knew what to do. My dream of
becoming a special educator was over. Was it even worth it to continue with
school? Was Dr. Maloley right, should I find a different profession? Would it
be easier to just give up, drop out, and work manual labor the rest of my life?
I
had to go to work right after this meeting, on my way I called my mom and told
her what happened. She was heartbroken for me. She didn’t know what to do to
help me or if she could do anything for that matter. She told me to talk to my
aunt. My aunt Karen failed out of college her first try. I had always been told
it was because she was a party girl the first go ‘round. I was wrong. She
failed because of depression, just like I was doing now. I’m so thankful she
told me the truth and trusted me with that secret. Because she understood my
situation, Karen went on the defensive for me. We sent in papers saying she could
see my records and the staff at EKU could talk to her and we set up another
meeting with Dr. Maloley.
When
Karen came to Richmond, Dr. Maloley’s tone completely changed. She was kind and
was attempting to be what I knew she thought was helpful. Karen convinced her I
wasn’t going to completely change my major. She knew I loved teaching and she
knew I wouldn’t be happy if I graduated without my degree to teach some level
of school. She fought for me, but even she couldn’t help. Dr. Maloley convinced
us to not go to the dean, telling us it wouldn’t change anything, he would just
say exactly what she did. I had to decide what to do after this.
Karen
and I took a break and went to get lunch. The way she saw it I had three
choices, take a semester off, try to go higher than the dean of the college of
education, or change my major to elementary education and figure it out from
there. I was so stunned from the meeting I still did not know what I wanted to
do. I remember Karen asking me what I wanted to do, and I answered, “I want to
die.”
Karen
calmed me down and comforted me. As we sat in Panera, me not eating because I
was too upset to eat, she started talking with me about my situation. “Dying is
not going to happen, it isn’t even an option. We can figure this out. Just
think about what you want to do it will be okay.” She said. It did not feel
like it would be okay. There was a weight on my chest and I wasn’t sure if it
would ever be lifted.
I
decided I wanted to stay in school, I was afraid if I took a semester off, I
wouldn’t come back, and I knew if I left school I would always regret it. After
lunch, Karen and I drove to the library and researched as much as we could
about my options. I chose to change my major to elementary education. I was
three days away from the start of the next semester and I now had no idea what
classes I would be taking. We set up a meeting with someone in the college of
education and got my major officially changed. The man we saw was completely
different from Dr. Maloley. He was kind to me, welcoming, understanding, and
even tried to find a way to help me stay in the program- to no avail.
At
the end of the day I had a new major, new classes, and I knew what I had to do.
After my first day of classes, I went to the office for students with
disabilities. They told me I couldn’t be registered without a referral from a
psychologist. Right after this I went to the student counseling center and set
up an appointment there.
Though
I had set the process in motion, I felt like I was getting nowhere and my
depression didn’t magically disappear. I tried to remember a time I wasn’t
depressed. It had been so long. I wasn’t always like this. My depression
appeared in 8th grade and reared its ugly head my freshman year of
high school. I had hurt myself, I was suicidal, I had no friends. But I made it
past that. I went to therapy, I got diagnosed, I started and stayed on medicine
since. Why was this happening to me again, now, so many years later?
Weeks
later I finally got into therapy. I met with a nice woman. She listened to me,
she gave me tips, and she referred me to the psychologist on call. The
psychologist is only on campus on Tuesdays, I had to wait a week to get in to
see him. I was incredibly nervous when I finally went to his office. Would he
tell me I was crazy? Would he change my medicine? Would he tell me I’m being an
idiot and take me off medicine? A thousand thoughts went through my head as he
asked me questions about myself. He turned out to be a really great guy. He changed
the dose of my medication, assured me he would do everything he could to help
me, and encouraged me to continue my process of healing.
After
I saw the psychiatrist, my therapist sent me to group therapy-the long term
therapy solution at EKU. Group therapy became my safe haven. This is really
where I made a lot of breakthroughs. I realized my depression wasn’t something
I had to go through alone. Other people were going through similar situations
as me. Most importantly I realized I hated myself. It may seem weird that I
that is what was most important, but it was necessary. Once I realized that,
once I hit that rock bottom, I knew things could only go up from there.
It
has been only 5 months since this happened. So much and so little has changed.
I’m still in group therapy and I still see the psychologist about every other
month. My medicine is still changing, he’s added another depression medicine
and put me on sleeping medication as well. I’m not cured. I have my good days
and I have my bad days. I still struggle to stay focused on my goal sometimes
and other times I’m more motivated than ever. Mental illness is a constant
struggle that I’m going to have to live with the rest of my life. The ultimate
goal is to get all of my symptoms in control enough so that my life won’t be
impacted as much. I have a long journey ahead of me.
I
know that continuing school and teaching is going to be a struggle with me.
I’ve learned how to act like I’m a bubbly person in front of students. I’ve
learned to seek help when I’m feeling down. I still have a hard time telling
some of my education professors and keeping up with all of the work I have to
do. There are days I’d like to stay in bed, but I know I can’t. I have to
persevere through my illness and live my life. I have to accomplish my dreams
somehow. I know that I have to seek help from others if I start going back down
the rabbit hole instead of ignoring the problem like I did before.
I’m not going to be the
conventional elementary teacher. I have a severe form of mental illness and
that won’t ever change, but what I’ve gone through and my understanding of
mental illness may make me a better teacher. I could possibly reach more
children because of it, relate to the children who are going through the same
experiences I was. I’m never going to be perfect, and maybe that’s okay. I’m an
unconventional teacher and that I’ve come to learn, is okay with me.
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