I haven't done much blogging lately I guess because I don't have a lot to say. That is, until now. My neighbor and fellow art teacher at school sent me a blog she found written by an art teacher somewhere in America. The title of her blog was "It Looks Like Fun." The bulk of her blog described in detail how people often tell her that her job looks like fun. She went on to discuss why it's not.
Well, I'd like to add my two cents worth as I describe how much "fun" the job of teaching is. Sure, I'm "just an art teacher" and my kids don't take the most ridiculous state-assessed, standardized, piece of crap on the planet, the Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills (TAKS). In Texas, "real teachers" are measured by the subject they teach. If you're an elective teacher, then you are, as one school executive referred to electives as, "The Uncores." So, that really boosts our self-esteem as professionals, let me tell you.
If that isn't bad enough, I'll give you the blow-by-blow of my job and you be the judge of whether or not it's fun. In my sixth, and hopefully last, year of teaching, I've seen my job get tougher and tougher. Granted, I'm not in Iraq getting shot at by anyone, and I'm not a police officer risking life and limb each day. But, I put up with an enormous amount of crap from kids that could care less about what I'm teaching and the parents that have created them, with society's help.
I work in a building that has one copier for 45 teachers and approximately 15 support staff. When there's a line at the copy machine, or it breaks down, which is often, you go to plans B and C.
Let's return to the aforementioned apathetic children and how difficult they can make the day for anyone trying to teach. Thanks to No Child Left Behind, and the idiots that authored it, your child has to sit in the same class with Little Johnny--fledgling serial killer. At one time when I was a kid, you could point out the class clown. Now, you have a whole class full of them. So, I am constantly redirecting and disciplining the monster children our wonderful, caring parents send us, while the few good kids sit there and suffer. Meanwhile, the attendance clerk is coming in, frantically wanting to know why I haven't taken roll this period. Excuse me, but I'm trying to do this little thing called TEACHING and don't really give a crap about attendance at this juncture. I'm too busy dealing with craphead(s) at the back table that are knocking someone's books off the table. Never mind I spent two hours preparing the lesson and Powerpoint that goes with it, Little Johnny seems to think that someday his boss will put up with his crap the way the school system does.
Halfway through my lesson I have a kid bellow out at another "shut up!" So, once again I have to stop, pull out an office referral and kick two kids out of my room. This seems to calm them down for the moment. Your talking about a person that writes maybe two referrals in an entire year and I've already written 7 in this semester alone.
Wait, it gets better. This class mercifully ends, but my last class will be coming soon. This little gem is 78 minutes long because we do a little thing called Advisory. Ah, 30 minutes of pure hell that is set aside each day for kids to have a study hall or tutorial time. Since its inception, it has been nothing more than 30 additional minutes of discipline and one more headache I could do without. And did I mention our art classes have become the dumping site for special education kids that are primed to explode at any moment? That's sounds like a lot of fun, doesn't it?
You tell me. What other profession has to put up with such nonsense? Who else has to take the wretched refuse of the campus into a course that is meant to develop a child's sense of creativity and appreciation for the arts. Pretty much every civilized nation in the world was founded on and has a deep love of music and art, but the United States of America.
I'm just curious, what other job out there can you be fired from because a student cheats on the state assessment because you weren't "actively monitoring" the classroom? Ours does. We sign an oath to "protect the safety and ensure the integrity of the state assessment." Go take the SAT and if you're caught cheating, see who gets booted. Is it the proctor, or the test-taker? I'm pretty sure it's the latter, as it should be.
As teachers, we're expected to justify every move we make, much like an NFL head coach. The only difference is he makes millions and I make less than $42,000 after 6 years. My wife makes less than $50,000 with nearly 20 years of teaching experience.
Sure, we get summers off, but big woof. But the time May gets here you're so tired you don't have the energy or the money to enjoy much of a summer. If Texas has its way, school will last longer each year. At some point, you look at your salary and realize you have a Master's degree (I get an extra $480 a year for that) and could do something else.
Parents want to know why you're picking on the gem of their gene pool. This is the same kid they don't want in their homes alone with matches and sharp objects, but we're the bad guys? Riiiiight.
So, you tell me. Does this sound like fun? I know, I know, then why did I become a teacher? It fell into my lap and I ran with it. I bust my butt to make good lessons and would die for these kids, even when their own parents choose their boyfriends over them. I would give anything just to think my kids care, but they watch the adults at home lie, steal, cheat on each other, and they think that's how life is supposed to be.
Tell me when it's fun. Teaching isn't about knowledge. Lots of IBM rocket scientists leave the world of lab coats and Bunsen burners to pursue teaching, only to quickly realize education is about managing a classroom, dealing with crud all day, and appeasing parents when you fail their kid. As soon as they come in, they leave with their Ph.D'd tails between their legs. Ask them if teaching is fun.
With the grace of God, I won't be in this much longer. I've got a lot to offer and I'm ready to find a place that wants it, will embrace it, and will reward me for what I can do. I'm tired of dealing with all the Little Johnnies out there. There's too many to count and I don't want to do it one more year.
So, next time you're in a school, or you're talking to a friend that happens to be a teacher, remember, it may look like fun, but it isn't.
TFR
