I Left the 9–5 and Found Purpose in Photography, Teaching, and Family

Over the last five years, a lot has changed for me. I went from working full-time as a web developer at CourseVector (highly recommend them if you need a website or hosting) to becoming a high school teacher, a sports photographer, a soccer coach, and a dad doing his best to soak up every moment. This essay was originally written for a graduate course, but it felt like something worth sharing. It reflects how my path shifted and how Jato Create Photography came to be.

Five years ago, my life looked nothing like it does today. I was working full-time as a web developer for a small, privately owned web company, chasing contract after contract and trying to build the company’s reputation in the industry. Today, I’m a high school teacher, a soccer coach, a photographer, and above all, a dad trying to hold onto every little moment. The journey from one version of myself to the next hasn’t always been smooth, but it’s shown me what matters most. Along the way, I stopped measuring success by how many projects I could land and started measuring it by how much time I get to spend with my family, because that’s what truly matters.

Leaving that job wasn’t easy. I had been with the company for six years, and in many ways, it felt like home. I built strong relationships with coworkers and clients, and I learned a lot about the importance of efficiency and process in web development. Those lessons still shape how I teach today. Over time I started to feel pulled in a new direction. I wanted a role that aligned better with my family life and allowed me to have summers off with my wife and kids. I started job searching and eventually came across an Indeed job listing for a high school teaching position at Dauphin County Technical School. It felt like it was coming full circle. When I started college at Messiah University, my original plan was to become a math teacher, but I changed paths after falling in love with web development in a gen ed class taken during my first semester. Now, years later, I was being pulled back toward education. The switch felt like stepping off a well-worn path into the thicket; unfamiliar, a little scary, but somehow it felt right. I had to go back to school, rebuild my daily routine, and step into a whole new kind of responsibility. But that risk came with a reward: more time with my family, a better work-life balance, and the chance to make a difference in a way that actually matters.

Since making the career switch, I’ve had the freedom to dive deeper into the things that matter most to me. Besides more family time, one of the things that matter most to me is my photography business. For years, it was something I squeezed in when I was able to. Snapping action shots of East Pennsboro Flag Football in the July heat wave of 2022 or catching golden-hour light at my cousin’s wedding. But with summers off and a more manageable schedule, I’ve been able to treat it like a real business. Just this past week, I launched my first online storefront for parents to order prints directly, and I secured contracts with East Penn Flag Football and Hanover Township Swimming. That’s over 600 athletes between the two organizations. I’m proud of that. It’s not just about taking pictures; it’s about preserving moments that matter for families like mine. Now, I even get to share that experience with my 8-year-old son, handing him my backup camera as we crouch together in the grass, scanning the field for just the right shot.

The changes haven’t just been professional. In the past five years, my role as a dad has grown in ways I never expected. My boys are now six and eight, heavily involved in travel sports; mostly soccer and hockey. Most of our evenings and weekends are spent with turf under our shoes or the hum of the highway in our ears as we race from one field to the next. I wouldn’t trade that for anything. These are the years I’ll remember; the roar of the crowd after a game-winning goal, the crack of the bat on his first hit. What might seem like tiny, forgettable moments to others are the ones that will tattoo themselves into my mind as cherished memories. Even everyday things like helping with homework, playing video games together, reading bedtime stories, or just laughing over a fart joke at dinner (much to Mom’s chagrin) have taken on more meaning. I’ve learned to slow down and soak it all in, because these moments won’t last forever.

Coaching has also become a huge part of my life. What started as a way to stay involved with my kids’ teams turned into something much deeper. I quickly realized the impact I could have, not just on the game but on the kids I coach. I’m not just coaching soccer. I’m helping shape characters. I find myself saying things to my players that my own coaches said to me when I was growing up. When I catch two kids crowding together on the field, I hear myself yell, “What are you two doing over there? Exchanging recipes?” It usually gets a laugh and helps them reset, but it’s also a way to remind them to stay sharp and communicate. Not every moment in coaching is light-hearted. At a recent game, a questionable call from the ref sent a ripple through our team. Players groaned, and I could see frustration building in their eyes. I reminded them, “It’s okay to feel frustrated, but what matters most is how we respond.” What I want my players to carry with them most is respect, composure, the ability to laugh at themselves, and the understanding that how you act under pressure says more than a win ever could.

Marriage has changed too, in the best ways. My wife and I will be celebrating our ten-year anniversary this July, and while we’re still the same couple who fell in love, we’ve grown a lot since then. Parenting has tested us, especially because we don’t always approach it the same way. I tend to be more firm and structured, while she is gentle and nurturing. But those differences have helped us grow stronger as a team. She’s the planner, the one with color-coded lists, containers for everything, and a suitcase packed five days early. I’m the one stuffing socks and underwear into my suitcase five minutes before we leave, calm but scrambling. Over time, we’ve learned to lean on each other’s strengths, whether we’re solving parenting challenges or just figuring out how to pack for our cruise to Bermuda. Next in our life’s adventures is boarding a cruise ship for Bermuda, and I know the salty breeze will carry us back to Avalon, New Jersey; to the sea air that framed our honeymoon a decade ago. What started as love has grown into a deep partnership built on trust and balance, something I’ve come to value more with each passing year.

Looking back, the version of me from five years ago wouldn’t have seen any of this coming. Back then, I thought success meant earning more money, building a résumé, and always chasing the next big opportunity. What I’ve learned is that real success looks more like having time to play board games with your kids, cheering from the sidelines, and going through life with someone you trust completely. The shift wasn’t sudden. It happened quietly, in the moments I used to overlook; bedtime stories, sideline cheers, golden-hour snapshots. And now, as I sit at the intersection of fatherhood, teaching, photography, and marriage, I’m not chasing after the next big thing. I’m living it. I’ve come to see that transformation doesn’t always mean starting over. Sometimes, it just means growing into the person you were always becoming.

Thanks for reading! Writing this helped me realize just how far things have come and how grateful I am for the people, places, and moments that have shaped me along the way. Whether it’s in the classroom, on the sidelines, or behind the camera, I’ve learned that the best parts of life often show up in those in-between moments. If you’re ever in the middle of your own transition, just know that the story might be unfolding exactly how it’s meant to.