I never thought I would have the nerve to walk away. Those kids tugged at my heart, and held me in that trap for too long. I will never understand the motives behind the head of that school. I left, finally. But I miss my kids in the worst way.

It was a shock to everyone involved when I started working for a Jewish elementary school. I just wanted to start my career anywhere, I wasn't too worried about the culture shock.

But what do I wear?

I got away with maxi-skirts and turtle-neck tops with three-quarter sleeves. I invested in dresses and skirts, as long as they came to my knee. It was a scary first day, and I handled it well. The children adored me, and I fell in love with my job. I was an after school teacher in the third grade. I stood in the classroom with their teacher and once class was over, I helped with their homework. The children were brilliant, and rarely needed much time for homework, so I created fun activities to keep them occupied until the buses came. I became known for my fun writing games. "Miss Gomez, can we play the neighborhood game?" Even students in other classes would ask me if I could teach them my games. Over the course of the school year, I learned Hebrew and taught them Spanish. I even learned some Russian. Those kids were special, and I grew to love them dearly.

When is pay day?

I was told we were to be paid on the 15th and 30th of the month, but that was a lie. I would visit the office on those dates in hopes of receiving my check, but would be turned down with a simple, "Tomorrow" or "Monday." I raised concerns with the delay, but there was no real sympathy, just the standard, "Tomorrow." I would leave and try again the following day. Sometimes I would receive it, other times another catastrophic excuse would meet me in the office.

I don't work for free

I had to report them to the New York State Labor Department when they tried to hold my last two paychecks for June. The principal had fired me for not answering her email the same day she sent it, even though she hadn't paid me in over a month after being asked repeatedly. She said I wasn't professional in answering her in a timely fashion. It was summertime, I was away on vacation with my family and I answered her email a day later: as I walked along the boardwalk with my nephew in my arms, heading for the water park in 98-degree weather. I'm sorry it was the following day, but let's be serious, my money was still being held captive. I felt like I was working with Mr. Krabs.

Somehow, the Rabbi was able to reinstate my position but this time as a real teacher, and honestly, I was in such a state of shock from being torn from my students without a proper goodbye, that I accepted. I forgot all about the paycheck fiasco that haunted every two weeks of my experience there. I walked into school on the first day back and my heart melted with every hug.

Nothing else changed, just my job role. I never received my contract, or my paycheck on time. I was hounded to create logs for the students to keep track of their progress. I had to make assessments for them to see where they should be, and I had no help. I did the best I could with the resources I had: the other teachers were sincerely helpful. But, I was still struggling to keep my checking account from closing. Every two weeks I would stand there in the office near tears.

Why can't they pay on time?

It had gotten to the point where my bank account was a steady shade of crimson while the school played peek-a-boo with my check. I continued to work hard, taking on added responsibility of more students as a Special Instruction Teacher. I didn't quit after continually receiving my paycheck later and later. My check had gotten so out of wack from our normal pay dates that I began to lose track of which period they actually represented. It didn't help that whoever handled their payroll never knew how to plug in the pay period dates correctly. I have three pay stubs within the last two months with the same pay period. The clerk at the check cashing place didn't even know what to think. She even felt bad for me when the check bounced, after all of the nonsense.

I can't understand why a school would want to disrupt such basic necessities. Last year, my W-2 form was a month late. This year, I will be lucky to even get one.

Working for nonprofessionals

I should have known they weren't professional when I heard that the principal screamed her head off at another teacher for leaving. Everything had to be done just so in order to have a smooth work day. Forced to create three different curriculum's for three different students, to teach at the same time, was basically unrealistic. My classroom was a makeshift room with a divider between us and the lunchroom. Between the hours of eleven and one, I couldn't teach. When I raised my concerns to the principal, I was told I would have a helper in the room with me. Months had passed and I was still alone. I swear I only stayed that long because of those kids.

One of my students, a fourth grader who shared my birthday, became my favorite. I encouraged her every day to do the best she can, and in raising her confidence, she ultimately began to enjoy the class time. I loved them, they were such sweethearts. My heart melted when they made me cards when I was out with the Flu, (that I caught from them).

I cried like a baby when I said goodbye to her.

She wept.

I bawled.

We hugged.

I whispered: Don't give up, ever. Keep writing.

She hugged me tighter, nodded in my embrace and said, "I will."