Disabuse me of my romantic notions about being a teacher

In My Humble Opinion
41

THIS. Absolutely, this.

That’s why moments like that Back to School Night I described, where students from a decade-plus show up and I actually get to see and hear directly from them the impact I made years down the line, are so precious.

Sure, seeing test results is also good feedback, but it only shows the instruction aspect. How I’m affecting the student is not measureable. This is why I have my “Happy Box,” full of notes and letters and thank-yous from students over the years that I pull out and read when I feel drained and disheartened. Last year I received a few very kind letters from students who were very appreciative of my efforts to help them improve (as opposed to the grumbling resistance I often get from both parents and students when I’m pushing the kids forward, rather than letting them sit back in mediocre complacency or worse). One of them had an F with me first grading period–and a B by the end, because he worked his ass off and made use of my help. He, and another like him, progressed a full proficiency level on the state tests (several others improved, too–a couple by two levels–but it was satisfying seeing that I actually made a difference in a student who had been telling me all year long I was making a difference).

Regarding tenure:
Tenure is not meaning nearly as much right now. With budget slaughtering and pink slips everywhere, it isn’t going by the “last hired, first fired” thing. Most recent hires are in math and science, and those are sorely needed positions. We have a glut of elementary teachers, so that’s where the cuts were. (Hubby’s district has let something like 80 teachers go in the last 2 years.) In my district, it never thankfully got to that point (yet), but I was told those with elementary credentials who were hired in the last 5 years should all be sweating. Tenure would not save anyone.

42

I expect **Leaffan **to next mention how *his *high tech job is much more demanding than *your *high tech job.

43

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the teachers I had as a child, and thinking I should write a couple of the standout ones to let them know I still remember them and that they had a huge impact on me, even if I didn’t seem like it at the time (I was pretty shy and introverted, and didn’t respond much overtly to overtures, even if they meant a lot to me inside). Maybe this will give me the impetus to do it.

44

Please, please, please do this. When students, either current or former, contact me to tell me that I’ve made a difference in their lives, it makes all the struggle and frustration worth every moment. It will make such a huge difference for them.

45

I just found one on Facebook and let him know what he meant to me.

46

Speaking as a high-tech senior system admin with a younger brother who’s a senior high school teacher and a basketball coach, I wouldn’t want his job for the world.

Yeah, for the guys in high tech who are unable or unwilling to find a 40-hr-wk job with paid overtime (hint, be a high-availability systems specialist willing to work 10% under average), teaching might be less stressful, but the fact of the matter is that my brother is working 12-hour-days on average, making 20% less than I am, and if you factor in what summer time off he gets, it works out about even. For comparison to ANY 9-to-5 job, and there are a lot of them out there, a teacher pulls a LOT more yearly hours for equal or less money.

-Z, sysadmin

47

One thing that some people don’t realize about the difference between teaching and office jobs is the game face.

I worked office jobs for about 12 years (temping and regular work) before becoming a teacher. At some office jobs, the phone started ringing as soon as I got there. At others, I had an hour or so before things started happening.

At every single office job I ever had, whether temp or permanent, there was down time. I could drink my coffee, answer routine emails, be low-key until I was ready to tackle whatever the Big Project of the moment was–designing fundraiser databases, writing a grant, coordinating studies, whatever I was working on.

That’s not it at all in teaching. I show up at 7:30 and zip around the school making last-minute copies, turning on equipment, straightening up. At 7:45 the first student comes in the room, and my Game Face IS ON. I am entertainer, disciplinarian, educator. I have to be more energetic than the most energetic seven-year-old in the room. I have to be the biggest presence in the room, more interesting than the clowniest kid. I have to be alert and in action every second of my work day.

I may or may not get a 45-minute planning period somewhere in the day. I’m with the kids during recess, with the kids during lunch. And for every single solitary second of the time that I’m with the kids, I’m working. No sitting back to drink some coffee, no checking out the New York Times or the Straight Dope, no chatting with a co-worker, not even going to the bathroom. I’m on-stage: teaching concepts, correcting behavior, wiping tears, coordinating schedules with the office. It’s like six hours a day of improv.

At 2:45, when I’m done with dismissal duty, I’m completely drained. That’s when the meetings start, two or three times a week.

After the meetings (usually over by 4 or 4:30), or after dismissal if there’s not a meeting, I straighten the room, write the next day’s schedule on the board, prep lesson materials. And yeah, this is when I might check out the New York Times for a few minutes, after my regular working hours are through.

The hours are long, sure (especially my first year, when I was regularly working 12 hour days). But it’s not just that: the hours are intense, more so than any other job I’ve ever had. The closest I’ve gotten to that intensity was working in food service. Office work doesn’t come close.

Leaffan, I envy you your cushy job.

48

Let’s see now. Every bit of the planning I did over the summer, which I spent literally weeks doing, has been wasted by bureaucratic incompetence leading to me having to teach completely different classes, so I teach five and a half hours a day, spend another hour supervising kids, and then spend roughly four hours planning for the next day, not to mention the marking, which can take a couple of hours for each class set of books, especially if they’re low ability. When I say I teach five and a half hours a day, I’d like to just make sure you realise that means that I am, by myself, dealing with between fifteen and twenty seven individual students ALL AT THE SAME TIME. Each one of them has their own thoughts, feelings, methods of learning, methods of wasting time which I have to stop them from doing, emotional problems, behavioural problems, learning problems - and they ALL want my attention, all at once. And if I don’t pay equal attention to all of them, and someone happens to come into my classroom and see that one of them is not doing the task I have assigned them, then I can be put into competency procedures. Yes, that’s a professional with four years of training and eight years of experience, job on the line because one kid in a class of twenty seven wasn’t writing their little story or whatever. Now then, Leaffan: when was the last time you dealt with more than twenty of your clients at a time? And leading a seminar for adult colleagues doesn’t count; they seldom put gum in each others’ hair or start a physical fight during your presentation. And if you had twenty seven of whatever these very stressful things you deal with in “high tech” on the go at once, would someone threaten to fire you if just one of them went slightly off course (in a reversible way) while you were dealing with another one?

So far this term (almost exactly one month) I have dealt with: vomit, excrement, saliva and/or phlegm, a collapsed girl who had taken an overdose, a collapsed boy having an epileptic episode, CS gas, a knife, a sexual assault, more physical fights than I can recall offhand, some of which have required me to pick a student up off another one on the floor and restrain them from causing serious harm, furniture being thrown (at me and others), being called names including cunt, seeing my colleague held up by the neck against the wall by a very large student until said colleague began to choke, at which point the kid laughed and walked away, a fourteen year old boy who lost his mother and went crazy; we’ve had the police, ambulances, child protection services… I won’t go into last year, when I was hit several times by students. I can’t go on as I have work to do. It’s now quarter past eight at night here. In about nine hours, I’ll be back at work. Between now and then, I need to eat, sleep, do some laundry, have a brief conversation with my partner, and finish getting ready for the classes I have to teach tomorrow. Did I mention that I was actually at work until 6pm because we had a meeting after work? I’ll be working this Saturday too, and on Monday evening. That’s scheduled meetings, not just the normal work I do those days/times in every week. That work will have to be fitted in elsewhere.

And by the way… if a student fails my course, I’m accountable, and can get punished, including being dismissed, by someone else. If I fail to help a student, or if (as is tragically common) I try my best but they’re too stupid or fucked up, or they get arrested, or sick, or their parent or carer dies, or whatever, I punish myself. And I don’t know any teacher that doesn’t.

People who say teaching is an easy job do not know anything.

49

My husband, DeathLlama, who did office work for about two years before becoming a teacher, called this “The DeathLlama Show.” He was stunned at how exhausted he was, and how he had to always be “on.” There is no downtime as long as there are bodies in the classroom.

My first year teaching, “The Ruffian Show” so drained me I was usually sound asleep in bed by 9pm, and occasionally 7:30pm. It also meant Sunday nights were nerve-wracking–“Oh, man…I have to go BACK!”

50

Your post is, quite simply, excellent. I am sure that many people who consider teaching a cushy job don’t realize this aspect of it. As a college instructor, my game face time is more limited than yours and somewhat less crucial, and it still can be exhausting depending on a number of different factors that may or may not be under my control.

I also liked how you pointed out that it’s you, just you, all the time. Most of the time, teachers don’t have a colleague to run interference so the teacher can just sit for a minute and catch a breath.

People who work in high-stress environments that are not education still often have the opportunity to at least duck into the bathroom, if not their own office or cubicle, and let down their game face for at least a little bit before resuming their duties.

51

My first year (10th grade Honors/Regents English), I went home headachy for two weeks. I’ve been at a middle school for the last few years and have been an adjunct at a small, private college for several semesters now, teaching undergrads.

Compulsory, public education in America is rewarding for many teachers, but it can be exhausting.

Class sizes are anywhere from 15 (Special Ed classes are small) to 30-something. Some colleagues had more students than desks at the start of the year. The average class size in my school (upper middle class neighborhood on L.I.) is, I think, 28. I believe the cap is 32.

The ability levels within a class may vary wildly - depends whether your school tracks students. Mine used to have “average”, Honors, and “Skills” (lower performing) tracks. This year, they did away with Skills. Kids who tested at “average” ability are in with kids whose skills are really lacking. Having these kids mixed in together can make things tricky - you must ensure that you hit all bases. Then there are kids with IEPs who’re taking some Gen Ed classes, ELL kids, etc. This is where Differentiated Instruction comes in - so as to try to help every student to the best of your ability.

Then we’ve got behavioral issues. On one hand, I have no experience with violence - a few bomb threats and one assault in three years. On the other, behavior is usually an issue with kids.

Not every kid’s interested in every subject, no matter how great a show a teacher puts on; you’ve got to be more interesting than the goofball in the back and make sure students understand the lesson. Or rule with an iron fist, which is no fun (IMO).

Sometimes kids have trouble paying attention and distract other kids because they have ADHD/ADD but aren’t medicated/need meds tweaked. Same with kids who have Asperger’s. Some have crappy or overworked parents and practically raise themselves. There are boyfriend/girlfriend problems, depression, hormones, drugs, etc. One of my 6th graders wanted to kill himself; one graduate did. Through all this, we need to be “on” - it’s draining.

You must also be cognizant of the fact that you’re a mandated reporter; if something seems hinky, you’d better tell someone and remember to document it. And be there for the kid in case no one else is.

And, of course, there are the little things: progress reports; lesson plans; report cards; irate parents; tracking down IEPs/going to CSE meetings; standardized tests; kids who could really use services but can’t get them because parents don’t want them/kid barely tested out; broken copy machines when you need 100 copies NOWNOWNOW; lines at the one copier that works; contract disputes, having to schlep to classes on your own time/dime to keep your certification…

breathes

Despite all that, I don’t think I’d want to do anything else. As others have said, it’s great to see the light of comprehension click on. It’s great to be there for a kid who feels he has no one else to talk to. It’s great to have a kid (especially a middle/high schooler) say hello to you of his own accord, and not because you said it first.

Do I think that teaching is the hardest, most stressful job out there? Certainly not. Do I want a medal? Nah. Do all jobs have their crap aspects? Of course! I think that most people think the one teacher they meet is a wonderful person doing a difficult job, but that teachers are lazy/whiny/coddled/etc.

Go for it, (wo)man.

52

IANATeacher.

I did, however, participate in an after school program for elementary-aged kids in Camden, NJ (aka hell) and I’ve also been a teacher’s assistant for preschool, elementary, and a camp counselor. So I’ve had some experience with kids in a school environment, but I am not a teacher and have never been. All I can do is tell you my experiences.

The Camden kids came from rough backgrounds – there was a kid who’s grandfather had gone crazy and murdered almost his entire family, including his mother. More ‘routine’ problems included being on welfare, single parents, violence, and the typical things like bullying and grades and so forth. All I could do was try to be a good role model. I helped them with their homework, and if their homework was already done, they could read a book or NatGeo while the other kids finished their homework. Then they had some free time to play games, or I took them outside. When they acted up, I would think ‘Prussian general’ – firm, dignified, strong. Only later did I find out that my class was supposed to be ‘the worst’; one of my teammates subbed for me one day, his usual post being the kindergartners, and he still raves about how well-behaved my kids were.

Believe it or not, a lot of them really took to chess. I taught one girl using the mismatched chess pieces in an old box, and the others were soon clamoring to be taught and playing tournaments against each other. They were also utterly fascinated by me and my teammates and bombarded us with questions. Kids are perceptive and they like to try to tease you or try to ask you uncomfortable questions.

The actual teachers were sort of burnt out and very grim about these kids’ futures, which it being Camden was understandable. They were really strict with the kids, which I felt was good because most of the kids didn’t get any discipline at home.

53

Yeah, I call it “The Mr. Dorkness Show” too. That’s definitely what it feels like.

And I agree with Cosmopolitan. It ain’t the hardest job out there: nobody’s shooting at me. I don’t deserve a medal. (I DO think I deserve more money and fewer meetings, but that’s not the question).

Two warnings I make about teaching:
-The bureaucracy is stunning, more than just about any other job I’ve ever been in. There’s a fantastic amount of paperwork you have to do on just about everything, and it can eat into the time you’d like to spend actually teaching.
-It’s definitely true that you can approach teaching as a democratic community of learners in which everyone has a say and children participate in building the structures of their own education. And you can also get eaten alive by these same children. I made the mistake my first year of teaching of approaching it in such a light, and NEVER AGAIN. At least with my school’s population, it’s tremendously important to establish yourself as the High Authority, amazing and awesome and a little bit frightening, early on. Every time I think that I’ve gone too far, every time I hate myself for being so strict, the kid I’ve been strict to comes up and gives me a hug. It’s totally counterintuitive to me, but a lot of kids desperately need that sort of rigid structure.

54

Show of hands from the teachers: How many of you roll the start of “All That Jazz” behind your eyeballs every morning?

"It’s showtime, folks!
Every freaking day. And I love every day of it. Love from afar, maybe. But love.

55

[quote=“Manda_JO, post:26, topic:512845”]

[li]Being the smartest person in the room warps your personality. This is not a little concern. Teachers get used to having an audience and it can adversely affect your relationships.[/li][/QUOTE]
But those times when you’re not the smartest person in the room are absolutely glorious. When one of the students lights up and “gets it” and corrects you on something? That’s an awesome moment. I’ve definitely taught students who were smarter than me, and it’s (mostly) enjoyable.

My wife spent enough time on the school board (both as member and as chair) to know this “myth” definitely isn’t made up out of whole cloth. It is extremely difficult to get rid of a fully-tenured teacher who chooses to just coast along until retirement. As long as that teacher doesn’t screw up in some major way, the job is a lock.

This, on the other hand, is quite true.

I salute you for this. I’ve always taught part-time, and there’s always been downtime during my day. Certainly, the “game face” has to be on during the class itself, but at college level, I always had somewhere to escape for a break between classes. It would definitely be tough to keep it going for a full workday.

56

Well, of course, but the OP asked about the negative stuff–being humbled by students keeps you young, and is one of the best parts about teaching.

57

Cannot agree more. I taught for 30 years and am now a full time author and academic. I still do some contract teaching because I miss the kids. I get emails and letters from ex-students and every one thrills me more than any of them can possibly imagine.

When I was 16, I was in a physics class because I was good at math so they made me do physics. I was bored and longing to be in biology or literature, both of which I had to drop. The teacher was waffling on about forces while a tree branch was tapping on the window. The two suddenly bonded and my brain came to life. Physics became the most fascinating of all subjects - even more than math, literature or biology. I went on to become a physics (and math/sci/IT) teacher, and loved it. That teacher had no idea he had changed my life that day. I wrote to him 20 years later. He died soon after, and his family told me just how much that letter had meant to him.

All day, every day, a teacher can change lives. Give it a go. You may just love it.

58

I don’t deny that’s true in certain situations or districts (or systems). My beef, however, is that the existence of ONE fully-tenured teacher who chooses to coast along until retirement seems to mean, in the minds of people who denigrate teaching, that ALL teachers, tenured or not, whether the tenure is shaky or solid, coast along until retirement.

The existence of one bad manager or coworker (as has been ranted about on these boards forever by everyone) generally does not create an assumption that everyone in a particular field is bad. Only when a bad teacher or teaching situation exists does the assumption become “all teachers are bad, because of the existence of this one teacher/teaching situation.”

59

I wish Leaffan would come and work in my place with his attitude, he would be dead within a week.

Try bragging to prisoners that you have a hard high pressure job and see how far it gets you.

As for teaching, he would not even get the words out of his mouth, the alarms bells would be ringing, the control crew would be there.

This is what I deal with, teaching with those who can barely speak English, right through to one or two with Phd’s, age ranges from 20 (going on 12 years old in maturity to 70) none of whom want to be in my presence, and who display no interest at all, until I sell it to them; the reasons why learning is worthwhile, how they might enhance and enrich their lives.

That first part usually takes two days, my classes last for 4.5 days, then I will get another group, this is relentless, and trust me, in prisons we most certainly do not get 3 months off.

Ignorant gits like this just piss me off.

60

Another not-so-shiny side of the coin: Being sick and/or missing a day off work is a colossal pain in the ass.

It’s not like I leave and the pile of work on my desk just gets higher. I have to prepare 6 1/2 hours of lesson plans to make sure 1) my kiddos don’t eat the sub, and 2) something actually productive goes on in my absence. This means when I’m feeling most shitty (like this week), I’m dragging my sick ass to the work room to run copies and try and get materials in order so the sub is properly prepared. Sure, one day out here or there I can manage a more or less throwaway day of review worksheets and such. But in times like this week, when the flu has knocked me on my ass for 4 out of 5 work days and I can (should) no longer get into my classroom to prep, I have this massive task of getting lesson plans emailed to the school–and figuring out what the hell the sub can do, since I can’t get there to run copies, and the sub won’t be permitted to use my school computer/projector for the PowerPoint presentations. AUGH.

Only thing worse is coming back that first day after a sub and cleaning up the mess. Sometimes that mess is very literal. Sometimes my things…disappear. But always, there’s a mountain of papers awaiting grading, lesson plans that need retooling, and a helluva lot of catching up (for both teacher and students) to do. The first day back, you often find those lesson plans you busted your sick ass preparing were ignored, thrown out, ruined, or not completed.

I am not looking forward to coming back on Monday. At the same time, it’s why I hate being out ever at all.

AUGH fever, go away! I want back in my classroom with my kiddos!