From ABCs to double D’s.
For Allinson Chavez, teaching tots the alphabet just wasn’t bringing home the bacon — so the curvy Queens native ditched her grammar school gig to sling chicken wings at Hooters instead.
“I was making $1,000 twice a month as an educator,” Chavez, 32, a single mother of one, told The Post. “Now, I can make $1,000 in two days.”
The money-minded millennial finds herself among a rising number of educators ditching the demands of the classroom due to underwhelming pay — and overwhelming burnout.
A recent report from RAND, a research and development firm, revealed that “the pandemic has exacerbated job-related stress for K-12 school teachers and principals,” causing them to feel twice as overtaxed as other working adults.
In fact, the American Educational Research Association determined that teachers are 40% more likely to report anxiety symptoms than health care workers, 20% more likely than office workers and 30% more than military members, legal experts and farmers.
Men and women of the chalkboard are increasingly admitting they’re unnerved by the threat of random violence and abuse at the hand of students — such as the 6-year-old who shot and wounded Virginia teacher Abby Zwerner before boasting, “I shot that b–ch dead.”
Stacey Sawyer, 55, a former eighth-grade teacher from Cape Coral, Florida, previously told The Post that clocking in each day had become a “scary” task, owing to the rash of fights and attacks that plagued her workplace. In June 2022, she quit teaching after three decades behind the desk.
“The stress of it was just too much,” said Sawyer. “I even hated just driving down the road to school. I didn’t want to go anymore.”
For many, sticking around for the trauma just isn’t worth the trouble.
“I was a special education teaching assistant for 10 years, and I was only making $46,000,” Chavez revealed. “After COVID, it was difficult getting the kids to catch up to their grade level after remote learning.”
“I had to deal with a lot of behavioral issues,” continued the ex-instructor, who worked at an elementary school in Elmhurst. “Sometimes the kids would become verbally and physically abusive.”
“I was living paycheck to paycheck, feeling stuck and mentally drained — it was time to move on.”
Chavez tendered her resignation from the Department of Education last spring — originally hoping to transition into software engineering.
However, after undergoing six months of boot camp training in user experience design, and applying to over 500 positions within the field, she failed to secure serious employment.
So, in September, the mom hoofed it to Hooters.
@_allinsonnn At this point, I have to laugh. But seriously, I’ve actually made more $$ here than teaching lmao #hooters #foryoupage #thisislife #techbootcamp #serving #servers #techbootcamp #imjustagirl ♬ Just A Girl – No Doubt
At this point, I have to laugh. But seriously, I’ve actually made more $$ here than teaching lmao #hooters #foryoupage #thisislife #techbootcamp #serving #servers #techbootcamp #imjustagirl
♬ Just A Girl – No Doubt
“I got hired on the spot,” said Chavez, whose sister, herself is a Hooters alum, encouraged her to apply for a slot as a smoke-show server at the Fresh Meadows location of the franchise.
“I really love it here,” she added. “People will tip you just because you’re pretty.”
The bombshell bagged $100 in 10 minutes during her first week on the floor, she said, and now makes around $5,000 to $10,000 more annually than she did teaching thanks to tips.
“One customer gave me $300 and only ordered a few beers, which are like $8 each,” she giggled. “My secret is that I really do care about my customers. They come to Hooters to get away from their real-life stress, and I’m happy to give them my best service. It’s rewarding.”
Although Chavez often misses her students, as well as the built-in health care benefits, summer vacations and other boons of being a teacher, she now gets to choose her own schedule. And she’s happier — at least for now.
