Fall 2009 Issue

A mother works through her
decision to leave her beloved
teaching job to care for her baby.

Dear Kind Employer,
I’m not really ready to write you this, since I haven’t yet thought out what words I want to use. But I realize that your tasks are, by their nature, time sensitive – so I want to give you as much of it as possible. In the near term, I will be unable to teach class on the 7th, and hope you’ll be able to find a replacement. For the long term, however, I will direct my creative, mental, emotional, spiritual and physical energy toward Anne. Poor Anne– I’ll probably wear her out! Actually, I don’t believe that at all. I think that having a mother who appreciates her time with her child is an unusual privilege, and it’s one that I can give to Anne – so I do – and I will from now on, without question, and without the competition of a teaching career.

Words cannot describe the feeling taking care of her full-time gives me. I can, however, tell you that when I was taking down the Christmas tree, she slept in her seat next to me. I looked at her momentarily, and she woke. It’s the feeling I got from her as she gazed up at me – the unquestioning faith she had that of course I was there. I cannot leave that. I cannot leave her, and I cannot leave behind the feeling she gives me when she smiles at me, sighs in relief when I figure out what will ease her, and when she pats me as I feed her. I used to nurture my students, and I still could. But I realize that I only want to nurture my daughter. Anyone of our staff can teach a class. Only I am Anne’s mother. Why in the world would I voluntarily leave her in someone else’s care?

Only for money. But we need little, and my husband provides what we require. I keep typing sentences and then deleting them. Somehow they are relevant to me, but I realize, not to another. I hope that I’ve written a letter of resignation here, although the words “I resign” sound contradictory. I guess I don’t feel like I’m resigning – I feel important. I’m Anne Margaret Sponheim’s mother. I’m happier than I ever, EVER imagined possible, as a mother. But I am resigning my position at Catapult. I had a wonderful time teaching for Catapult, and even made some friends there. I consider you a friend, and I hope you feel the spirit in which I’m writing this letter. I would very much appreciate your professional recommendation for any future position I may seek.

There are some things you cannot begin to imagine until you experience them. Motherhood is one of those things. I appreciate all the support and kindness you have shown me as an employee – Thank you. Now I want to raise my daughter. I’m feeling relief, now, as I write – I know this is the right thing for me to do. Weirdly enough, I still long for evaluations, constructive criticism, and reward when I do a good job. I will have to be my own. That’s the hardest part.

Sincerely,
Jeannie Sponheim