hard decisions.

Today was hard.  Life decisions are hard.  I've spent the weekend struggling with one, and ultimately, have come to a conclusion.  I've decided to quit my job.  My job of five years.  My job that I love. I really do love it.  And do you know why? Do you know why I'm leaving? Well for a few reasons.  But the biggest one.  Money.  And I hate that.  I really do.  I have the opportunity to teach at a new centre, one of the more progressive and inspirational [for me anyway] centres in the city, one where I will have opportunities for professional growth, stability, and possibly creative writing endeavours in published journals and conferences. You know, the stuff I went to school for. For.. .um... seven years?? yeah.

But when I leave, I will be leaving a group of women who have touched my life. A group of women who nurture, educate, support, and encourage everyone they encounter, everyday.  The type of women who make it a joy to come to work everyday.  Who laugh, and swear, and cry and feel openly and honestly.  The type of women who are shining examples of what a mother is.  The type of mother that I hope to be someday.  The type of women who when your grandfather dies, they send you home with hugs and kisses, food and flowers and tell you not to come back until you. are. ready.

And that is the hard part about my field.  I do what I do because I love it.  Period.  I get paid very little to be an active participant in a community of caring.  And when you enter into that... it's difficult to maintain professionalism in it's natural state.  When your boss wants you to stay, or is afraid that you are going to leave, there's no money for a raise.  So instead, she bakes you cookies.  Or offers you rides home.  Or lets you leave early on a Friday afternoon.  She lets you know that you are valued and appreciated.

And today? Today. Today involved this: listening to a grandmother cry on the phone this afternoon after she found out I wouldn't be her grandsons teacher this year.  A grandmother who has taken in not one, but two grandchildren as her foster children. Who cried not only because I won't be his teacher, but because I won't be a support for her and her family.  Today I also looked into the eyes of a broken, broken man. A man in  his twenties who just found out he is HIV positive.  A man who is a patient at the methadone clinic across the street.  He came to the centre today to apologize for kicking in the window of my classroom on Thursday night.  Kicking in the window, shattering it, and making my classroom un-usable.  He told us his story. And we listened. Today I brought a plate of burnt, left over grilled cheese sandwiches to a group of hungry men outside our centre.  A group of men, and one in particular, who look out for our centre on a daily basis.  Who chase away drug dealers from our front door, who shovel our walkway when it snows.  Who say good morning to our kids everyday when they walk by.  And they got a kick out of being served child-sized grilled cheese sandwiches.  And that made my day.

So this is my job.  It's not my job description.  But it involves my every day with these families and with these children.  And I'm walking away.  And it makes me feel so heavy.  Blargh.

I know it will be okay.  I know it's time for a change for me.  I know this.  I am excited to start somewhere new.  To be inspired, to meet new families, to experience new opportunities. That's cool. But leaving sucks.

Let's leave it with this because it's so good.....