• After 10 years in elementary education, I decided I no longer wanted to be a teacher.
• I wanted a more flexible job that allowed me to stay at home with my kids.
• When time allows, I'm able to make more money than I did as a teacher and have a better work-life balance.

When I went into education, I did so with the best intentions. Being a male elementary school teacher was sort of like being a unicorn. It is extremely rare for a man to be teaching early elementary. There were plenty of single-mom families in the area where I lived, and I knew many students didn't have a male role model at home to inspire them, so I thought I could fill this void. I took the responsibility seriously.

But after ten years in the field, I had to tap out for a few reasons. None of the reasons really had to do with the students themselves. The pay wasn't great (after 10 years of teaching I was still taking home just around $3,000 a month) and I didn't enjoy the politics of teaching. But, the most important reason was probably that my wife and I were ready to start a family. She often works long hours and I didn't want someone else to raise my children. I thought I could find a way to contribute financially and still be home with the children.

Becoming a freelance writer

Before I went into education, I had been a journalist for a few years. It wasn't something I really enjoyed at the time and I didn't see myself wanting to cover mundane board meetings forever. If you ever suffer from insomnia, just drop in on these meetings occasionally. It's like an instant sleeping pill.

Still, I thought I was a decent writer. I've certainly read worse over the years from people who made their living as professional writers. So while I was still teaching, I joined Upwork, a website that connects freelancers with those looking to hire contract workers. Upwork allows people or companies to search for a specific type of writer they are looking for to complete their project at hand. You are competing against other writers who are also applying, but Upwork is a great tool to use when you are first attempting a freelance career.

To begin, I set my fees low to get my foot in the door. Then it wasn't long before I had clients who were asking me to write for them on either a weekly or monthly basis. As an unexpected bonus, most of the topics I covered genuinely interested me. Health and fitness, education, and even ghostwriting children's books were all things I enjoyed writing — and I was getting paid to do it.

Fast forward four months

As I was wrapping up my last weeks in the classroom before the school year ended, I realized I could go give my notice that I would not be coming back to teach the following August.

I had just made $6,000 in one month from freelancing — and that was while I was still teaching. I would definitely miss my students and all the friends I had made, but being able to set my own schedule, work from home, and raise my kids was something I could not pass up. My wife and I were having children later on in life, and the math showed me I would probably not get the chance to spend as much time with my kids as other fathers, so I switched careers.

My plan is mostly working well

I'll admit, I underestimated how much time I would have to write while taking care of two babies at home. I've really had to narrow down my client list over the last five years, picking the ones that are truly worthwhile. Now I only accept writing assignments I can get excited about.

Though I only have about 15 hours of free time at home a week where I can focus on writing, I have made the most of it. In fact, you can find my two children's books "Ellie and Jack: Third Grade Ghost Hunters," and "Ellie and Jack: Third Grade Vampire Hunters," on Amazon and other sites. I always wanted to write children's books, and after helping thousands of children become better readers over the years, I think I have a pretty good idea on the types of stories they love to read. Weaving my teaching past into my current career has been a joy.

With one child getting ready for kindergarten and the other just a couple of years away, it won't be long before I will have more time to write once again.

• Dina Winter-Robinson and her twin were homeless and constantly late for school at the age of 13.
• They were staying with an aunt who lived an hour away and had to take two trains to get there.
• The sisters were scared of repercussions and told nobody. But a thoughtful teacher put them at ease.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Dina Winter-Robinson, 51, a school kitchen worker from New York City. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Many people don't know how impactful they are unless you actually tell them. Sometimes they don't even have a clue.

I suspect my 8th grade science teacher, Mrs. Falcoff, never knew what a gift she gave to me — a desperately shy teen who barely spoke at school — by making me feel heard.

My twin sister, Gina, and I lived in the Bronx with our mother, a single mom, and one of our two older brothers. We had a nice apartment owned by a private landlord and everything was fine — until it wasn't.

I felt ashamed and told nobody

The landlord raised our rent, and Mom, a nursing assistant, couldn't afford it. As a result, we had to leave. My mom moved into a temporary place with her then-boyfriend, and my brother stayed with the family of his best friend.

Meanwhile, Gina and I were sent to live with Mom's sister, Auntie Marjorie, who lived in an apartment in Brooklyn with her two sons and daughter.

We loved our relatives, but it was a strain at times. The apartment had two bedrooms, and all five of us kids shared a room. Still, the most challenging part was getting to our middle school in the Bronx in the morning.

We took two trains, which was new to us because we hadn't been on the subway before. It was the mid-80s when people thought the New York City transit system wasn't safe. But I was more worried about getting to class on time.

It often took us an hour to get there. We'd miss the start of the first period, usually science, and I'd shuffle into the classroom with my head down, hoping nobody would notice.

My teacher helped us

I was embarrassed about our situation. I was also concerned that if anyone found out, they'd ask questions. I was terrified the authorities would get involved, and our family might be investigated and separated for good.

Gina kept our secret but there was a constant fear we'd be found out.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Falcoff was my favorite teacher. She was strict but fair, and the other kids respected her, too.

Even though I admired Mrs. Falcoff, my shyness meant I hardly spoke to her. Although I was academically strong, I hardly ever raised my hand to answer questions.

Then, one morning, while the other kids were leaving the classroom, she called me over. "What's going on, Dina?" she asked. "Why are you and your sister always late for school?" I was nervous, but I trusted her. "Gina and I are homeless," I said. I told her how we were not living on the streets, but it was hard because of the travel time to get to school.

She looked a bit shocked, but her voice was reassuring. I explained how we'd moved in with Auntie Marjorie and didn't know for how long. I said we were safe. "Could your mom call or write me a letter to confirm things?" she said. I felt seen and heard at last.

I'll never forget Mrs. Falcoff

Mom wrote the letter, which I gave to Mrs. Falcoff the next day. She must have had to tell the principal, but there were no repercussions. We did our best not to be late to school anymore, but we didn't get into trouble if we were.

Everybody pulled together to make things work, but Auntie Marjorie's apartment was crowded. There wasn't much privacy which was hard when you're a 13-year-old girl. To our relief, after seven months, Mom had saved enough to rent a new place in the Bronx.

It was great to be reunited. I spent the rest of my teenage years feeling happier and more settled.

I've never forgotten Mrs. Falcoff and the important part she played in my life. I often think of her and how much she'd listened to me and gone out of her way to care.

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