Out of the Classoom, Into... Everything Else

AKA Where I've been and where I'm going.

It's been a while since I've posted on my blog. Or LinkedIn. Or made any new accessibility videos. So... where have I been?

Last May, I made the decision to leave my orchestra teaching job of 19 years.

It's something I'd thought about doing for several years. Not because I didn't love teaching orchestra - I very much did. But somewhere along the way, I had accidentally acquired a second career.

In addition to teaching orchestra, I found myself doing more and more instructional design and accessibility work. I trained and supported other teachers in accessibility, Canvas LMS, YouTube, and creating digital content. I built resources. I made tutorials. I solved problems. I became the person people asked when they couldn't figure out why something wasn't working. To check for errors before rollout. To think through all of the details before a big event. I started facilitating accessibility workshops for high ed. And I loved that, too. So I started thinking about a career change.

Thinking about it. Considering it. Researching it. Taking courses. Getting certifications.

Actually doing it? Ehhhh.

There was also another factor. In April 2022, I had brain surgery to remove an acoustic neuroma, a benign tumor growing on my hearing and balance nerves. The surgery got rid of the tumor, but it also left me completely deaf in my right ear and without a functioning vestibular nerve on that side.

This is, as you might imagine, not particularly convenient when your chosen profession involves standing in the middle of a room full of children playing string instruments.

Before surgery, I could hear an out-of-tune G and immediately whip around toward the offending violin. After surgery: There is an out-of-tune G. Somewhere. Godspeed, I guess. If a student called my name from across the room, I knew someone wanted me. Where were they? Excellent question. (I told the kids my echolocation was broken).

Fortunately, students are incredibly adaptable. They learned pretty quickly that shouting "MS. BARTHOLIC!" from somewhere behind me was going to result in me spinning around trying to locate them, so they waved, moved where I could see them, or otherwise made themselves findable. We adapted. (Kids are GREAT at that).

But teaching orchestra had become harder for me physically, while at the same time this whole other career path had been quietly growing alongside it. Eventually, "maybe someday" started looking a lot more like "maybe now." So, in May, I turned in my resignation, effective August 1. Then I just had to figure out how to leave a job I'd been doing since 2007. Easy! ...

I don't want to talk about the number of hours it took to work through 19 years of classroom belongings. Or documents. Or Google Drive files. Or YouTube videos other educators were still actively using, sitting happily on a district account that would eventually go ::poof:: into the digital abyss. There was A LOT.

And because our performing arts staff worked as such a close team, we'd all accumulated our own pieces of institutional knowledge. Different people handled different parts of events, budgets, fundraising, concerts, recruitment, and approximately 47,000 other things that magically happen behind the scenes of a school music program.

I had visions of my former colleagues reaching some event in February and suddenly saying, "Wait. Caitlin always did this part. Do we even have this document anymore?"

So I tried very hard to make sure my departure didn't come with any delayed surprises, and to anticipate the things people wouldn't realize they needed until I wasn't there to ask.

I also had the pleasure of spending time with the brand-new orchestra teacher taking over my position. I wanted to make sure she had everything she actually needed, knew where things were, and was not forced to perform an archaeological excavation through 19 years of my stuff to figure it out.

And then, after 19 years, I was done.

So what have I been doing since?

I made a deal with myself that I wasn't going to immediately throw myself into applying for jobs full time. I wanted some actual breathing room between one enormous chapter of my life and whatever comes next.

I completed my Trusted Tester certification. I took more courses through Deque University. I made a couple of explainer videos for VeDA (Vestibular Disorders Association). I experienced Jacob Wood's Hands-On, Sight Off: Working with NVDA course. I attended Special Interest Groups through my local ATD chapter, joined Nicole L'Étoile's Summer of Accessibility series, and attended WSU's Accessibility Summer Camp. I created a training for a friend who owns an auction business and needed to delegate some digital tasks to an employee. I've also been helping another friend create posters and program booklets for the upcoming Italian Festival here in Columbus. (Congrats on your role as Director of Marketing and Communications & Media Relations, Joe!)

And obviously, when one is trying to create more free time in one's life, the logical next step is to become a Dungeon Master. So I also did that. I started DMing a Dungeons & Dragons campaign for a group of friends, joined on as a host for a local board game & more group, and will be leading a session at their upcoming convention on D&D Basics and Character Creation.

REST.

RELAXATION.

I AM VERY GOOD AT THIS.

But weirdly... it has felt like breathing room.

I was able to help my parents while they were both recovering from surgeries this spring. I finally tackled home projects I hadn't been able to get to since before my own surgery four years ago. I built frog houses for the onslaught of tiny baby tree frogs that suddenly all appeared on my back door (literally... stuck to my back door) one night. I've had time for friends, hobbies, learning, projects, and things I kept putting in the "I'll get to that eventually" category. Eventually finally showed up.

I know, I know. It's not a spectacular time to be job hunting. And if my doctors had gotten their way, I probably would have made this change several years ago. But apparently I needed to arrive here on my own schedule.

So now I'm officially starting my job search for roles that live at the intersection of accessibility, learning design, and problem solving - especially the ones that let me dig into the details: testing, evaluating, troubleshooting, asking questions, and uncovering opportunities for improvement.

I want to find the right fit, not just the next thing. Ideally, that's something remote or hybrid in the Columbus area, where I can keep some of the balance I've finally managed to create while doing work I'm very good at and genuinely enjoy. And preferably without frequent travel. Flying and a missing vestibular nerve don't always cooperate particularly well.

That's where I've been. And now that I've resurfaced, I have quite a bit from the last few months that I want to share. You'll be hearing more about many of the projects, courses, and experiences I mentioned here.

So after months of very little content... I have some catching up to do.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! And if you know of a role I should look at, want to collaborate on something, have an accessibility or learning problem you'd like another brain on, or just want to connect and talk shop, I'd love to hear from you.

Here's to figuring out what my next adventure will be!