A Facebook “On This Day” popped up in my newsfeed today. Normally I dismiss them, but today’s subject gave me pause.
3 years ago I sat down at my computer and started writing. I was upset about work and needed to find a way to work out my frustrations.
I rarely listen to music, but that day I’d heard TuPac blasting in the hallway.
Have you ever heard the story of the rose that grew from the crack in the concrete? It learned to walk without havin feet.
The result was On East High, my first viral blog post.
Could that have really been 3 years ago?
One of the hallmarks of a good teacher is reflection. I’ve always believed that if a lesson fails, it is my fault. I sit and think about the ways in which it failed and what that means for my students. Was the task too difficult? Was it interesting enough? Did they know why what they were learning was important?
When On East High went viral, District personnel reached out for my opinions on what we needed to do to change our schools. I sat in on countless meetings, spent hours on emails and even spoke at multiple conferences. Little by little those meetings and those “interests” have died down. If anything, I find that my professionalism and commitment to my students is challenged more than ever.
The District just can’t seem to honestly and openly reflect on why it is failing.
When no one even cared-the rose grew from the concrete-keeping all these dreams.
I still have never been paid the correct salary.
I still have battles over sick time and personal days.
My students are still not being given their mandated services.
I give ESOL services to students who speak NO OTHER LANGUAGE BUT ENGLISH because of a paperwork/clerical error that “can’t” be fixed.
I hold students who cry on a regular basis because they are lost, but someone’s test said they are proficient enough to sit in “regular” classes.
I meet with administrators, district officials, and even email the superintendent, hopeful that someone will listen, that someone will ascribe value to the lives of the children being lost in the system.
When no one else even cared. No one else even cared…
In every research papers about job satisfaction I could find, the results showed that there was a negative relationship between teacher job satisfaction with operating procedures and years of teaching experience. As years of teaching experience increased, teachers in public schools were more dissatisfied about the operating systems and procedures in which they worked.
Not behavior. Not safety. Not “today’s youth”.
Operating procedures—which are made and staffed by other adults.
Every time someone asks a teacher about the state of education, we give the same answer: “If I ever leave teaching it will be because of the adults, not the kids.”
Think about the power of that statement. Teachers are, in general, a pretty conformist bunch. We like to follow rules and make systems. We say “good morning” to everyone we meet. We value kindness, integrity, and order.
How is it that this is our unofficial mantra?
We are failing our children, that much is clear, but if you really look and reflect, you’ll see why.
Our students “fail” over and over again because we are obligated to work within a system that was built by people who are no longer (or never were) teachers. We witness the racial, socioeconomic, and linguistic discrimination that is our public school system.
Teachers can’t work to our potential. We can’t do what’s right for kids because some politician decided what is right for our kids. Because some complicated formula or algorithm told a computer what is right for our kids.
We watch as those children don’t graduate, get low paying jobs, get married and get pregnant.
We watch them join gangs.
We attend their funerals.
All the trouble to survive and make good out of the dirty, nasty, y’knowhahatImean, unbelievable lifestyle they gave me
I’m just tryin to make somethin…
In my blog I wrote “ East is doing the best it can in a system so broken no one knows how to fix it.” Three years later, I’m amending that statement.
The system is broken, but there are people who know how to fix it—the teachers.
God bless the teachers who grow from the cracks in the RCSD.
Don’t ask why.
But please, I’m begging you, ask us how.