The first thing you should know about me is that I never imagined I would be working for a university in the role that I am now.
Five years ago, when I was contemplating what I should do once I graduated from university, my mind was set on one single career: teaching. And why not? It was what I had always thought about doing ever since I was young (to employ a frequently overused cliché) and I was suitably naïve enough to know no better. Now, I never referred to teaching as a ‘calling’, as I always found that to be incredibly pompous and overly self-gratifying, but it’s fair to say that I never paused to consider any other career. That was my first mistake.
Before I continue, I should mention that I have nothing against the teaching profession. On the contrary, I have a huge admiration for those who remain in the teaching industry; I don’t think it’s much of an exaggeration to state that teaching is one of the most important careers in the world. However, it is also one of the most demanding. There is no discernible way to realise this, until you are actually a teacher yourself.
Preparing for a Career I Didn’t Love
Since I was 11 years old, I had been adding experience after experience to my CV, in preparation for my chosen role as a teacher. I completed various mentoring schemes, I organised work experience in several different schools in my free time, I became a student ambassador at university, and I was even accepted onto a placement scheme, which sent interested university students into the classroom one day a week for 10 weeks. I had prepared as well as I could…
But when I eventually became a trainee teacher, it was at the worst possible time. It was in the fall of 2020, when Covid-19 ravaged the world, claiming millions of lives, and forcing the human race into isolation for months on end. I wisely decided this was the perfect occasion for me to move to a brand-new city, where I would be living on my own, with no friends or family nearby, and start this new job as a trainee teacher, which was infamous for its high dropout rate. Another thing you should know about me is that I make really good decisions under pressure.
Existing, Not Living
Suffice to say, this volatile concoction did not mix well. Within a year of teaching, I had become depressed. During the summer holidays, I barely got dressed, let alone attended to my personal hygiene. I left my flat twice during the 6 weeks of summer. I no longer met professional deadlines. I barely spoke to my family. I became the actual definition of a couch potato. In an outrageous display of pig-headedness, I still told myself (and anyone who asked) that I was absolutely fine. I wasn’t. I wasn’t living. I was existing. Shortly after the summer holidays, I tendered my resignation.
Struggles of Starting Over
I moved back in with my parents to give myself time to rest and to heal. Teaching really had knocked me for six, and I felt incredibly battered and bruised. However, I was finally free. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before another, larger problem began to loom. What on earth do I do now? All of my previous work experience was centred around teaching. It was all I had ever wanted to do. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of choosing a different career.
Eventually, I moved to Nottingham to continue my recovery, and while I was there, I got a job at a café. After a year, I began to feel more like my old self, and thanks to some hefty pushing and prodding from a close friend, I decided to apply for at my old university, which I had found on the university’s website. It was a student recruitment role, and eerily similar to my student ambassador job I had completed at the same institution nearly four years before. If I was ever going to start over again, this job was the perfect opportunity.
However, I was still extremely nervous; my CV was still full of teaching-specific experiences. The only job listed on my application that wasn’t academic was my time as a barista, and unless the university role called for someone to make the ‘worst hot chocolate that they had ever tasted’ (peace be with you, Anonymous Customer), I felt certain that I was underqualified.
Embracing Unexpected Opportunities
To my genuine surprise, my application was shortlisted for interview, and so I prepared a short presentation about why students should study at the university. Despite a few fumbled answers (and more than a few awkward attempts at humour), I was offered the role on a fixed term basis. It didn’t take me long to accept, which turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made.
The job was challenging but rewarding, academic but not teaching. Yes, there were many occasions where you would have to work late, but unlike with teaching, you were compensated for those extra hours. The salary was better, as was the social side of the job. But for me, best of all, you left work at the office; you weren’t expected to spend evenings and weekends slumped over your laptop. I recognise a lot of jobs involve working outside of office hours, but after a year and a half of teaching, I needed that clear boundary between work and home.
Final Thoughts
The point I’m trying to make (which I hope hasn’t got lost) is that life can throw you the almightiest of curveballs. You may spend years of your life staying awake until 4 in the morning studying and researching for your PhD, only to find that the career you thought you wanted was completely wrong for you. It can feel like you’ve reached a dead end, with no way around. But I’m writing this to tell you, that’s not the case. Whether it’s a PhD or something else, don’t be afraid to reassess your skills and look where you’re at. Most importantly…
Take a step back.
Rest.
Pause.
And choose another road.
