Let me back up a couple of jobs. Maybe three.
Or--on the other hand--let me tell you about a job interview I had recently.
I looked at the two other women in the room--the principal and the assistant principal--and, regarding their positions and that of their female superintendent, I remarked that it was really great to see so many women in administration for a change. Because in education--particularly secondary education--it's far more typical to see men at the helm.
And that, friends, may have been my undoing for about the last decade or so of my life.
(DISCLAIMER: Before I go on, this isn't a "man hating feminazi" post. I have worked with a great number of men who have proven to be excellent colleagues, leaders, and friends--men who are anything but misogynists--who I very much admire and appreciate. You know who you are!)
That said, one thing I've come to understand is that the more outspoken and intelligent a woman is, the less likely her male boss is going to like her. Or let me rephrase a little. If an administrator is a narcissist, or unhappy, or easily threatened by other powerful people, he is unlikely to tolerate a woman who dares show her power.
So... gaslighting. The first time it happened to me at work, we had had a major upset in the administrative order. The guy who was mostly responsible for hiring me messed up big time and got himself fired. And his educator license revoked. And some other unpleasant stuff. His assistant kind of took over, but kind of not, because he wasn't promoted but he pretty much started running things and one of the first things he did was to REdo my recent evaluation and give me a crappy one. Like, the first crappy eval of my teaching career. For the rest of the year he made me jump through all kinds of hoops to prove that I was capable of doing my job. I even started double checking things with him, even though I truly believed that as a person he was a giant douchebag and as an educator he was mediocre at best. It was the first time that I started to lose faith in myself, even if it was only a little bit. But to an extent, I let this guy make me think that I really had to have him double check my work, even though I had more classroom experience.
The second time I let it happen to me I was at a new job, where, strangely, once again the guy who hired me moved on (only this time it was not under nefarious circumstances) and the guy who took over was a giant douchebag who had less classroom experience than me. For not just one, but TWO years, I let this person convince me that I was not doing my job as well as I should be. I jumped through hoops. I tried new things. I did what I could to please him and other administrators. I was told to do one thing, then scolded for it and told to do the opposite. I was so worried about getting my work done--and well--that I sat attached to a breast pump every Sunday so that my husband could take care of our newborn while I worked tirelessly to prove myself to a dude who's whole goal was just to crush me in the end anyway. To tell me that in spite of all my efforts, and in spite of all my talents, I wasn't good enough. He'd have to let me go (truth be told, so he could hire a political insider instead.)
The third time--and THE LAST TIME--I let it happen to me was when I let my boss and his wife (a fellow colleague) convince me that I didn't know jack shit. That I was always doing everything wrong. That I not only couldn't meet the standards set before me, but that I didn't even have the sense to know what they were in the first place. When I left the situation, I couldn't even think about teaching anymore. Here I was, a woman with 21 years of experience in my field who was always engaging in professional development on some level, always reading up on the latest trends, always trying to create and recreate and reflect upon and hone my craft, and ALWAYS thinking of those who I serve before myself, and somehow I just didn't care anymore. I stopped engaging with other professionals on social media websites. I let books I'd bought just sit on the shelf. I deleted every e-mail from MindShift and TEDed without even opening it. I wondered what else I could do with my life, because this profession, it had bled me dry. It had left me in a sea of self doubt. It had nearly crushed me.
Well, let me tell you what. There's a new girl in town. I've been being gaslit by work supervisors since 2010. IT STOPS HERE.
I am really, really good at what I do. Sometimes, I screw up. That's what's supposed to happen because I am human and I am imperfect, just like you. I know now that I didn't do anything wrong other than be in a job that you wanted to give to one of your friends or community members. I know now that the only way for you to continue to feel superior to me was for you to make me feel small. I know now that you, for some reason, feel the NEED to feel superior, which is stupid, because we were supposed to be colleagues working together to make the world a better place and make the school a safe and comfortable place of learning for the children and community that we served.
I'm done feeling sorry for myself. I'm back. Tomorrow I'm gonna read "Teach Like a Pirate" cover to cover and when August comes, I'm gonna go out there and give someone else the talent and dedication that you threw away. I'm going to go kick some ass and make someone else's school a badass place to learn. I'm gonna go spread my hippy love and fairy dust all over someone else's community and your kids are gonna miss out on that. I loved your kids and I will continue to love your kids--but I am done with you, because you are small and petty and emotionally abusive. You are a bully. And there should be no place for you in education.
I still have nightmares about my most recent job. I have spent several months being in a funk, being unable to sleep though the night, drinking alcohol when, for several years, I hadn't taken a drink--hadn't even had the hankering for one. If I didn't think it would be an insult to those who have suffered trauma far worse than mine, I'd think that I have PTSD as the result of working in a toxic environment for way too long.
NO MORE.
"I won't just survive; oh, you will see me thrive. You can't write my story."
I'm back, and I'm taking my ball and sharing it with people who will appreciate the badass motherfucker that I am. I am taking control of my narrative--no one is allowed to control my story but me. You may be glad that I'm outta your hair, but you shouldn't be--because I fucking rock, and what I had to give, your community needed.
Peace out.
Teacher Stress
Gaslighting in the Workplace
