Monday, May 30, 2016

The last day

Again, it has been forever since I've blogged.  Right now, I'm capturing one of those rare moments when complete silence and daytime intersect at my house.  When I say "rare," I mean, like, "seizing-a-unicorn-rare".  I'm hoping to get back into writing again.  I recently was listening to a sermon about filling your life with things that stir your soul, and writing is one of them.  So are running, podcasts, pages, coffee, Bengal Spice tea, the back patio, and early mornings.  I'm hoping to have a lot more of all of those in days to come because... I'm staying home with the girls next school year.  More on the reasoning behind that decision another time, but for today, I just walked out the doors of teaching in the public school system for the last time, maybe ever.

I need a year to decompress and reevaluate, but after that, I'm really not sure that I'll ever go back to teaching again.  I've mentioned that to several people and, not to toot my own horn, but the response is typically the same: "Oh, but you're so good at it!"  At some point,  it doesn't really matter how talented you are if you've completely lost your sanity and six years later, I've reached that point.

During this last year of teaching, I worked at an extremely low-income school, which was much different than any school at which I've worked in the past and also much different than any other school in my district.  I'll make a few observations about working at that school specifically and then about teaching in general.

About teaching at a low-income school:

The good:
-The friendships I formed at Title I School were fewer but deeper than friendships I formed at other schools.  The relationships I built with my assistant and with the kindergarten teacher across the hall are the kind that last a lifetime.  That statement, "It takes a village to raise a child" is really true.  When the needs of students are so great, you really do have to lean on other people to meet them (and your own).
-I learned a ton.  I mean, wow.  The past year of teaching opened my eyes to more than I learned in all four years of school, student teaching, and my first five years of teaching combined.
-All students can learn.  The home lives of some of my students were a disaster.  Most of them came in at four years old, not knowing any letters of the alphabet and unable to recognize their names or count to 10.  A couple weren't completely potty-trained.  All of them learned astronomical amounts.  None of them were the same as when they came in.

The bad:
-Gifted kids get overlooked in a classroom and school where there are so many needs.
-Our school didn't have any walls (thankfully, that is being fixed), so anytime someone ran down the halls yelling the "f word" (which was often), everyone heard it.
-What are parent volunteers?  At other schools where I've worked, parents came up to help make copies, cut out lamination, read with the students, and work on other projects.  That just didn't happen this year.  I had some sweet parents of students in my class, but many were single parents who worked long hours, which is completely understandable but also a huge change from where I worked across town and never made a single copy for myself.

The ugly:
-I literally spent thousands of dollars on my classroom and my students.  I'm grateful that my husband and I have the kind of money that made that possible, but I wasn't just buying fancy art supplies or materials for science lessons (though I did buy some of those); I often bought copy paper and snacks.
-I had students in my class with urgent dental needs, as in, major toothaches and infections that prevented them from being able to focus.  I had students with bed bug bites, rashes from sleeping in urine, and only one pair of shoes that was worn for every type of weather.  These are basic needs, y'all.  And these are kiddos who are expected to perform at the same level as the kids across town whose parents make six figures.
-Because Title I School doesn't have the test scores of other schools in the district, a disproportional amount of attention is focused on testing grades 3-5, to the neglect of the younger grades which could benefit from the same services such as tutors, reading and math specialists, and behavior interventionists.  This is a problem because when small gaps in academics or behavior are not noted and served early, they become major gaps by the time those students actually do reach testing grades, and so the cycle continues.
-Due to the problems mentioned above, teachers at low-income schools work harder than teachers at wealthy schools (and get paid the same amount).  At least I did.  Thus, teachers at low-income schools get burned out quickly and the consistency that these children need is obsolete.
-Since my class was partly special education, I was supposed to have two assistants.  One quit in December, and I can count on two hands the number of subs who came to my classroom for her during the entire second semester.  The position was never filled.  At times, my other assistant needed to be gone for legitimate reasons (she has 3 kids), and it was rare that she would ever have a sub, either.  There were two women who would consistently sub in our building, and one had to bring her 3-year-old daughter every time.  Everyone else would typically sub at Title I School one time and never come back.


A random, neutral observation:
-White children often have as many struggles as minority children.  The struggles are different, but they are definitely present.  Title I School does not have a minority majority, and almost everyone qualifies for free or reduced-price lunches, low-income housing, and Sooner Care.  Many have incarcerated parents, and some don't have parents involved in their lives at all.

About teaching in general:

The good:
-It is darn rewarding.  Gosh.  It is unbelievably challenging, but when that lightbulb goes on for a kid for the first time, or sometimes even the hundredth, or when a parent thanks you with tears in her eyes, or when debilitating shyness turns into confidence...those are good, good moments.
-This profession allows you to meet some truly inspiring people and develop deep friendships.
-Two words: Summers off.

The bad:
-Obviously, the pay is terrible.  But honestly, most people don't teach because of the pay.  You know what you're getting when you sign up.

The ugly:
-To be an effective teacher anymore, your job almost has to consume you.  My mom, who teaches in Texas, does not agree with this, but she teaches middle school math and basically covers the same material seven times a day.  In elementary school, every subject must be planned every day.  The people, it seems, who are the best teachers these days are the ones like my mom, who don't have children at home anymore, or single people straight out of college who can devote tons of time and energy to their job.
-I do think that I made a difference in the lives of my students this year, but the truth is, I didn't change their lives forever.  It takes year after year after year of teachers making a difference to truly make things different for a child.  And even sometimes, year after year of good teaching cannot change a life.  The problem is systemic.  I have no control over what happens to a child when he goes home.
-I also cannot make a child's disability go away.  Yes, all students can learn astronomical amounts, but not all students can learn at the same rate as others.  I went into special education because I loved the way Camp Summit gave children confidence and provided them with opportunities to experience things, with support, that other children get to experience on a regular basis.  The public school system crushes these children and does not provide teachers with the support they need to reach them.

If you know a teacher, especially a teacher in Oklahoma, give her a big hug today.  It's good work, but it's hard and thankless, too.  Even in the summers.  I had my last day, and I plan to spoil all the teachers I know in my time off next school year.  I know there will be days when I miss the most rewarding job on the planet, but I don't think I'll ever look back.