It’s been a tough week for me as an educator. Last week, I got sprayed with pepper spray while trying to break up a fight, and this week, I got bit. I understand these are just some of the risks that come with the job. As an assistant principal in North Carolina, it’s not exactly a glamorous position. Teachers, no doubt, have it rough in many ways, but being an AP is supposed to be temporary—3 to 5 years, and then ideally, you either become a principal or leave education entirely for something safer, like base jumping with gear you bought off Temu. If you stay too long, though, you end up forgotten.
Assistant principals carry all the responsibility but none of the authority that principals have. In NC, our salaries are tied to the teacher salary schedule, plus 19%. This means a teacher with a master’s degree and National Board certification can make more than an AP with a master’s, and only 1% less than an AP with a Ph.D. Imagine supervising people who make more than you do! To make things worse, my district recently introduced raises for nearly every position—except assistant principals. Why? Apparently, they just don’t like us that much.
To top it off, there was a huge error in the salary implementation, which I, with the help of ChatGPT, identified and reported. I was thanked for catching the mistake, but then informed that not only had I not received a raise, but I had also been overpaid and now owe money. The irony is real.
I share all this to say that sometimes we need a push to get out of our comfort zones. This was mine. I was comfortable in my role as an AP—maybe even a “super AP.” I’ve saved lives and helped turn around schools, yet I’ve never been recognized for it because of my position. Honestly, I don’t need the recognition, but I do want to be paid like I matter.
I don’t blame my district or the state for this. I’m just in a role where people don’t fully understand the value of what I do, and I’ve never made it my mission to show them. But now, as I prepare to move on, I’m ready to support the unsung heroes—teachers, APs, and everyone else who gets overlooked in North Carolina’s educational system. My goal is to help them find financial stability while continuing to do what they love, even if the system doesn’t support us.
That’s why I chose to start selling insurance. It’s not just about finding a new career; it’s about helping people like me, who work hard but feel like they’re constantly being overlooked. With products like Indexed Universal Life (IUL) policies, term policies with living benefits, and annuities, educators can change the game for themselves. These tools provide not just death benefits, but living benefits, flexibility, and long-term financial security. IULs grow your wealth while giving you flexibility. Term life with living benefits offers protection if you face unexpected health issues, and annuities ensure that when it’s time to retire, you don’t have to rely on a system that doesn’t always have your back.
As educators, we dedicate our lives to others—now it’s time we look after ourselves too.”
