Leaving the classroom wasn’t the end of my story as an educator. In many ways, it was the beginning of a new chapter.
In the summer of 2023, after more than two decades in music education, I made one of the most difficult decisions of my professional life: I left teaching.
I didn’t leave because I stopped loving music, caring about students, or coming up with ideas. I left because I was exhausted by a system that felt increasingly unsustainable. The job I had signed up for after college was no longer recognizable.
At the time, I had no idea what I would do next. Three years later, I’ve built a career in telecom sales, rediscovered the joy of performing, and found new ways to stay connected to music education.
A Lifetime in Music Education
Music has been central to my life for as long as I can remember. I’ve taught PreK–6 general music, directed choirs, and worked in the education departments of three arts organizations. When my children were young, I also spent ten years teaching private piano, voice, and ukulele lessons.
In 2020—yes, that 2020!—I returned to the public school classroom. I navigated online teaching, learned new technology, and discovered creative ways to connect with students through a screen. As challenging as it was, I enjoyed finding new ways to teach. During that time, I also earned my master’s degree in music education.
Eventually, I accepted a teaching job in my own community, just a mile from home. I thought I’d found the perfect place to finish my career.
When the Job You Love Becomes Unsustainable
Teaching has never been easy. But the demands seemed to keep growing while the time, resources, and support available to meet them did not.
Between lesson planning, assessments, classroom management, meetings, and administrative responsibilities, I was working incredibly hard and feeling increasingly undervalued, underpaid, and unsupported.
The hardest part was that I still loved so much about the work: the students, the moments when a concept clicked, the joy of making music together, and especially the creativity of designing lessons and activities.
Too often, those were the things I had the least time to do.
By the end of the 2022–2023 school year, I knew I couldn’t continue in the same way. I genuinely mourned leaving the classroom.
But loving what you do doesn’t mean you have to accept every condition under which you’re expected to do it.
From the Music Classroom to Telecom Sales
After leaving, I felt lost. For years, I’d known exactly what I was: a music educator. Suddenly, I had no clear direction.
My sister worked in telecom and started inviting me to trade shows and meetings. I went along, met people, and tried to imagine a completely different career.
Before I knew it, I was interviewing for an outside sales position!
In hindsight, maybe sales wasn’t so unexpected. Sales is in my blood: many of my family members have worked in one kind of sales or another. I just never imagined joining them.
What surprised me most was how much teaching and sales have in common.
Teachers are Salespeople, Too!
If you’ve ever stood in front of sixth graders and tried to convince them why they need to learn something, you’re a salesperson.
You have to capture attention, build trust, explain value, listen, respond to objections, and adjust when your first approach doesn’t work.
Those are the same skills I use with customers now.
I had plenty to learn about telecom, of course. But I wasn’t starting from zero. I was building on skills I had practiced for years.
Today I genuinely enjoy my work in sales and the opportunity to keep growing.
Changing careers doesn’t erase your experience. Sometimes it reveals just how valuable that experience is.
Rediscovering Music for the Joy of It
One unexpected gift of leaving teaching has been having more time to make music for myself.
These days I regularly sing at weddings and funerals at my church, and I absolutely love it.
It’s meaningful to provide music at moments of celebration, reflection, and remembrance.
For years, music was something I taught, planned, organized, and assessed. Now I also get to sing simply because it brings me joy.
Stepping away from the classroom didn’t mean stepping away from music. It helped me reconnect with it.
The Creative Part of Me Never Left
I also missed creating: inventing games, designing activities, and finding ways to make difficult concepts approachable.
When I taught full-time, I often had more ideas than time to develop them.
Now I have room to explore those ideas again.
That creative spark eventually inspired me to open my Teachers Pay Teachers store, The Measured Melody, a place to share engaging music education resources with teachers.
I love the idea that something I create can help another teacher save time, inspire students, and bring a little more fun into the classroom.
I’ll tell you more about the name and the teaching philosophy behind it in my next post.
A New Chapter, Not a Different Identity
I can enjoy a career in sales and still care deeply about education. I can sing because I love music. And I can create resources for teachers without returning to the demands of a full-time classroom.
I didn’t stop being an educator when I left teaching. I certainly didn’t stop being a musician.
I simply found new ways to be both.
Welcome to The Measured Melody
Here I’ll share reflections on career changes, music education ideas, and the creative projects that keep me connected to teaching.
Whether you’re a music teacher looking for inspiration or an educator wondering what might come next, I’m glad you’re here.
Three years ago, I thought I was closing a door. It turns out I was opening another one.
“Welcome to The Measured Melody!”
