Looking back, it’s hard to acknowledge, but I wasn’t cut out for teaching at the time. I got a position in an EP program at a reputable high school, thrilled to have outperformed other candidates with a solid demo lesson. I entered the job with big aspirations, but things unraveled quickly, and I soon found myself in over my head. The truth is, I had no idea how to effectively teach, and the students saw right through me. My lessons lacked structure and engagement. I’d spend a few minutes vaguely discussing the topic, then toss out an activity, only to realize I hadn’t explained it properly. On top of that, I never gave them enough time to complete tasks before abruptly moving on to the next thing. This chaotic approach soon led to disengagement from the students, and when they started tuning out, I’d lash out in frustration, only making matters worse.

Instead of addressing my shortcomings, I chose the easy route: avoiding change. I didn’t ask other teachers for advice because I was too proud—or maybe too embarrassed. After two months, it was no surprise when they decided to let me go, though they graciously allowed me to stay on until I secured a new position. At the time, I was outraged, convinced I’d been treated unfairly. Whenever someone inquired about why I left, I’d spin the story. I claimed the head of the program was against me from the start and that the students were difficult and uncooperative. I repeated this version so many times that I eventually convinced myself it was true.

It wasn’t easy being fired, and the sting of failure was tough to bear. But, with time, I’ve gained perspective. I can now laugh about the experience and appreciate the lesson it taught me. And hey, I haven’t been fired since - so that’s progress, right?

Ricky