It took an eyeball to finally convince me to quit my job. Up until that point I had dealt with disrespect, danger, and drugs and taken it all in stride. An eyeball, however, was the final straw.

On the day I decided to quit my job the bell to release students from third hour had just rung when my supervisor approached me. I like my supervisor, she is kind and efficient. Two qualities I admire greatly. I wish she was higher up on the chain of command because maybe I would not be quitting.

“Hey, did you notice anything about Thomas today?” She asked. I perked up. I did notice something about Thomas. He seemed more engaged that day and he did not need to be redirected. It was unusual for him. I

“I did! He turned in an assignment today. It was the first one he has turned in this semester,” It was true. Thomas was a smart student, but his attentions were always drawn elsewhere. I was proud of his behavior in my class that day. My supervisor looked me hard in the face. Concern lined her features.

“Did you notice anything about his eye?” I took a step back at her question. What did she mean did I notice anything about his eye? He hadn’t said anything about his eye.

“His eye? The only thing I noticed was the homework assignment he turned in. I looked him in the eye when he turned it in and told him good job,” I was confused. What did his eye have to do with anything?

“So you didn’t see him trip and fall?” she asked.

“No? He sat at his desk and did his work. The only time he got up was to turn in his work and I did not see him trip then.” I was growing impatient without a full understanding of what was happening.

“Thomas said he fell in your classroom while holding a pencil and it went into his eye,” A chill rushed through me and I grimaced.

“What? Is he okay?” I asked wide-eyed at the grisly mental image she had conjured.

“He is in Mr. Randall’s office with his eye covered and it’s bleeding a lot. We had to call an ambulance for him. Unfortunately his story has changed multiple times so I have to do an investigation,” I thought about Thomas and how his behaviors had recently changed. All of his teachers had been in communication with the counselor and social worker about how odd Thomas had been acting recently. Horrible realization hit me.

“You think he did it himself?” I stated it as much as I asked it. Horror settled in my core. I knew Thomas was going through a lot. I did not know Thomas had the capability to stab his own eye with a pencil. I wasn’t sure what was worse, losing your eye intentionally or accidentally.

“Mrs. Smith said he was shoving pencils in his nose yesterday to cause a nose bleed. Unfortunately, yes. I do think he did it himself,” We stood in my doorway and looked at each other for a moment. A valley of silence stretched between us. Both of us unsure of what to say in the face of such a terrible thing.

Fourth hour started and like always I faced my class like nothing was wrong, but something was very wrong. A child might have lost an eye and I was burdened with that knowledge.

I thought back on a book I had read in high school Girl Interrupted. In the novel a girl sets herself on fire during a mental break. The scene that always haunted me involves the badly burned character realizing what she did to herself weeks into her recovery. She screams and mourns her previous life. That scene kept playing in my head except now I pictured Thomas with one eye screaming about what he had done.

Luckily Thomas did not lose his eye. He still has his full depth perception. I am relieved to know that he is unharmed, but Thomas’s decision to stab his own eye fundamentally changed my perception of my job.

It has been a crazy year. I knew going into this school year that would be rough and it has been. We confiscated at least six knives, we’ve witnessed more drug addicted students than I have ever seen before. At least seven teachers were injured by students. One student was trampled by another student and broke his neck which led to a union grievance and a staff walk out.

But until Thomas tried to take his own eye I had only been tossing around the idea of quitting my job. I loved my job… two years ago. Teaching was my passion… that was ruining my life. That evening I reflected on my career. I realized that I was in a codependent relationship with teaching. So I did what any rational person would do. I resigned.

I am both at peace with my choice and nervous about what the future might hold for me. I’ve decided that I do not want another teaching job. Which leads us here. My final summer vacation. The last chance I’ll ever have to enjoy a summer off of school.

*Names were changed to protect the innocent.