Teaching is Such a Racket

As an educator in a close knit community, I am an easy target for disgruntled community members. I would love to believe that people flock to me the way they might flock to an adored film or rock star that first week of school. Occasionally parents will stop me to tell me about the success of their child or thank me for a college recommendation but often I find myself face to face with naysayers who welcome me back each year with an immediate flood of negativity. I have worked in the private sector in many jobs but this is the only one in which I was made to feel shame as I entered the first week.

The 2015-16 school year began two weeks ago with an intense but productive week of in-service followed by a four day week of welcoming students, followed by an extended Labor Day weekend. My husband and I took turns pulling late nights and early mornings at school while the other took care of our daughter and her friends. Setting up, cleaning up classrooms, ordering supplies, organizing web based platforms always takes more time than the school day allows but our enthusiasm for working late into the night remains high. Courses, workshops and our own field work done during the summer fuel our inspiration. So I guess it really is my own fault when I let the euphoria blind me enough to smile as I walk through our local stores and offer hellos to solemn faces.

Maybe I should have hidden my tanned and toned body under a sweater as I headed to the drugstore to buy index cards and glue sticks. “Must be nice” is the statement I hear most often. “huh? whaa”, I reply. “Must be nice to be paid to have summers off”, or “must be nice to make that teacher’s salary” in a tone suggesting that I have been misusing my funds.  The silence and glare that follow cause me to look down humbled. I desperately mumble any calamity that comes to mind, like stubbing my toe, or admitting that my car is in the shop. And then I take my school supplies and go. I grab the local paper on my way out the door only to find letters to the editor from an angry citizen. He lists several faults with education, fault with digital technology and fault with teens in general.  It doesn’t help that the syndicate journals often kick off a article or magazine devoted to what is wrong in education, in testing and learning just as I hope to start the first days with students on a truly hopeful and positive note.

The worst confrontations seem to happen at our local garbage dump. My husband and I equally dread going but with the school year already in session we decided to go on the Friday before Labor Day. For some reason having time during the day to dispose of our garbage seems to indicate a life of leisure and corruption. On worker in particular never fails to shoot a snide comment to one of us. “You have today off? Already? Teaching is such a racket!”

But this year is slightly different. My husband takes a deep breath. He lets it out and decides to avoid further conflict by employing the Socrative approach. “You know that today is not a contracted day? Didn’t anyone tell you that taxpayers don’t have to pay for our day off? I can’t believe that they hid this from you. Come to think of it, why don’t you teach? If it is a racket, why aren’t you teaching? What would you teach if you could?”

The series of questions were delivered quietly, patiently, with long pauses in between. I suddenly realized that this was the problem. I let people hurtle initial vents about education at me but I never pause to encourage them to continue. I never encourage them to actually provide a better solution.  The man at the dump was genuinely shocked to have to provide an answer and my husband would not leave until he did. It turns out that he did desire a career as a math teacher, but struggled with the preservice experience and then gave up on the whole venture. Voicing this aloud caused him to turn a friendlier, humble face to my husband as he waved goodbye.

Tonight I’m trying a new approach. As awful as it is for me to walk into a job with a community of resentment it must be twice as difficult for students. Students of resentful parents can’t openly express excitement about education. Highlighting low scores on tests on the first day of school is as bad as telling someone they are a bad driver before you get them behind the wheel. So, I think it is time for the open letter, thanking the community at large for preparing me. I take the bitterness as a sign of fear and worry for the students of tomorrow. Fear that I won’t help them find their potential. That I won’t give them multiple opportunities to succeed. That I won’t help them find a way to connect learning to a passion within. Thank you angry man for reminding me to list and post and publish every student success.

Otherwise, how would you know, how much is gained in a single day or a single moment? Maybe it is time to flood our media with positive stories. Next time someone says, “it must be nice” I could say assuredly, “yes. Yes it is. I had 25 students receive a perfect score on a news quiz and two students were accepted at the college of their choice. I helped one student finish reading a novel for the first time and I helped another design a blog for a business she hopes to start.” Thanks for noticing.