Should I Stay or Should I Go?

It's Over

2006-06-07T23:45:00.000-04:00

It's over. I am outta there.

I wanted to write a nice post about how proud I am of my seniors, who graduated Monday night. I am proud of them--particularly certain ones who worked really hard in my classes--but the truth is, two "graduates" should not have received diplomas tonight because they did not truly pass my class for the year. I compromised my academic integrity by not putting up more of a fight when asked to fudge and inflate and give the nod.

One student flunked his final exam, along with his final test, along with lots of other stuff this year. If only he'd shown up in class, done his homework, listened to lectures, and maybe participated in class discussions, he would have done fine. He passed anyway, since I let him retake the exam (he made a higher failing grade than before the second time around). I also had to do some fudging, curving, and re-weighting of grades for everyone.

Another student did not take his final exam but wrote a paper as an "alternative exam" because of a learning disability. Only thing is, he plagiarized his paper, almost word for word, from a popular "CliffNotes" type site on the internet. He should have gotten a zero and failed. If only he'd made an effort on his own--like he's done for the past semester--I would have felt somewhat justified in passing him. The plagiarist passed anyway. The school simply wanted to rid its hands of him, since he would never truly pass on his own.

I feel sick over this. The keynote speaker spent some time talking about integrity. As he spoke, I just sat there feeling like I wanted to throw up. I'm probably taking this too seriously. I've always taken academics too seriously, I suppose. Even when I was six, I took school too seriously. But this is serious. I feel like I should go to confession or something. "Father, forgive me, for I have sinned." Would this be a sin of omission? Whatever. Apparently it's not all that important.

I'm so glad it's over. I'm ready for a year's worth of seething rage, ugly bitterness, and acrid cynicism to end. I am definitely writing from a place of bitterness tonight. I resigned from the job last week, though I may return next year to teach a single section of a single class. I don't know. The academic integrity thing makes me think I don't deserve the title of "teacher" anymore. Kind of like Atticus saying he could never again tell Scout and Jem what to do if he didn't defend Tom Robinson. I don't think I can ever tell students what to do anymore, since they can slack off and b.s. and plagiarize and not have to deal with any real consequences.

My resignation was very hush-hush, but it seems that everyone knows now. Parents were even telling me at graduation how sorry they were that I wouldn't be teaching English next year. So, since everyone else knows, I'm now telling you, dear readers.

I loved many things about teaching, and there are things I'll miss about it. I'll miss the joy of ... well, teaching. I love the students, the subjects, and my co-workers ... but I'm just not cut out for the teaching life.

Someone, please tell me that I shouldn't take this so seriously and that I should lighten up. But only tell me that if you really believe it.

I Met My Replacement Today

2006-05-30T17:02:00.000-04:00

She's good. She's going to be really good. She doesn't know what she's getting into, but that's OK. I'm giving her all of my lesson plans, handouts, essay assignments, quizzes, tests, etc.--anything that will help her.

She and my principal both are responding with disbelief at how generous I'm being. It's not that I'm being generous. I just don't want her to have to go through what I went through last year, or she'll be the one resigning next May. Maybe my years as a tech writer taught me not to be possessive of my own work. I don't know. But I'm making her a CD of all my work tonight. It'll give her plenty to look at over the summer.

The school really wants me to remain on a less-than-part-time basis and teach a writing class. I want to. In fact, I'm the one who suggested. If my writing-career schedule allows for it, I'm going to do it. It would be a way for me to continue teaching, to be a part of a school that I love (I really do love the school), yet still have flexibility and time to myself. It'll also be more stuff I can add to my grad school application.

So, life is very good. I'm going to shut down this blog in a few days. I think it's served its purpose.

After All That Agonizing ...

2006-05-29T21:47:00.000-04:00

I resigned today. Several hours later, my principal called me at home. They have a replacement for me, and they were wondering if I could talk to her (the replacement) tomorrow and let her know what my plans were, curriculum-wise, for the school's English program next year.

Sure, I'll be happy to.

I also got an e-mail from a company I worked for several years ago and was told that, if I'm looking for any freelance writing work, to please let them know because they have plenty that I can do.

Yup. I did the right thing--though I'm taking the summer off before I even begin to think about another job. Luckily for me, that's OK with my husband (it was his idea, actually).

I'm going to try freelance writing and teaching. My school is very interested in having me teach one class next year (a writing class that combines expository writing with creative writing), and I would really love to do that. I love teaching. I just don't think I can take another year of full-time teaching at this particular school.

My sister, a 10-year veteran of teaching, knows the details of my situation. She thinks I'm crazy to have stuck it out for the entire year. Maybe I am. But I know I've made the right decision, and I'm hopeful for the next phase of things.

I'm going to write more on this later. For now, I'm feeling pretty exhausted and am going to go to bed early.

A Step in a Direction

2006-05-25T16:57:00.000-04:00

I set up an appointment with my principal for after school today. I didn't know what I was going to tell her. I didn't think I had the guts to resign. So I just went in, sat down, and told her, very honestly and not too emotionally, how I've been struggling with this decision. I told her the honest truth--that I was concerned for my mental health. Because when it comes down to it, I'm not considering leaving because of the salary or the hours or any of that. My main reason for wanting to leave is that I've become a nervous wreck, and I've been a nervous wreck for months now. If you've read my other blog with any regularity, you've probably noticed it.

She was surprised that I was thinking about leaving, but she wasn't surprised at the reason I gave her. She is well aware of my "mental (lack of) health" struggles--I warned her about them before she ever hired me. She was very supportive and kind, and it made me feel like less of a heel for thinking I should quit.

I realized today that I'm a big part of the problem. I guess I knew that, but I haven't wanted to fully admit it. Some people can handle the crazy scheduling and the lack of standards and the roller-coaster style life on stage. You teachers who have done this for years--y'all are among those that can handle it. Some people just can't. It's not that I can't handle stress; it's just that I can't handle the kind of stress that's been part and parcel of this job.

I also push myself too hard. I once joked that having me work in a school is like having an alcoholic work in a bar. I love learning, planning, teaching, etc., so much that I put 200% percent into it when I could really get away with much less. If I had some sort of mentor standing over me saying where to draw the line of effort, or where I should lower my standards and where I shouldn't, maybe things would be easier. Maybe I would learn how to cut corners--or which corners to cut--if I stuck around for another few years. But it's never been something I've been particularly good at doing. And the work environment isn't the most conducive to personal growth of any kind.

It all goes back to mental health. This past year has been a disaster for me, spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. Maybe next year will be easier, but then again, maybe next year will be worse. I don't think I'm willing to take the chance of finding out. If it's worse, I may not survive it.

So I didn't resign, but I gave my principal a heads-up that I'll likely resign. She said she would pray for me, and that, whatever my decision, I should let her know soon so that they can begin looking for a replacement. Our meeting ended on a positive note. Of course I was boo-hooing by the time it was over.

I think I've done the right thing. While I didn't resign, I've moved to a much better place than where I was before the meeting. I'm feeling much better tonight than I was this morning, when my stomach was in knots and my throat kept closing up. Much better.

First Draft of Schedule

2006-05-25T09:30:00.000-04:00

I went to the principal today to ask if she could look over my exam review guides and tell me if I'm expecting too much or too little from my students. As she was looking at them, I noticed that a very early draft of my schedule for next year was on her desk. My planning periods will be first period and seventh period. As for the rest:

2nd: American Lit
3rd: Composition
4th: World Lit
5th: British Lit
6th: Fundamentals of Lit

So far, they're keeping to their promise of not giving me an English class for seventh period.

I'm sick over this. Yes, CaliforniaTeacherGuy, it's an INFP trait--or, more specifically, a "P" trait to think and think and think and not act. I'm usually pretty good about acting on things, but not this time. I just wish I wouldn't give myself an ulcer in the process. It seems like so many factors are involved.

Pre-Exam-Week Thoughts

2006-05-24T21:40:00.000-04:00

I've written two exam review sheets, and I have one to go.

What saddens me is that these students' study skills are so poor. A few will do well on the exam, and most will do poorly--no matter how easy I make it. I tried to teach study skills here and there this year, but it's been a losing battle. I even begged to be able to teach a study-skills elective during second semester this year (I know, I'm crazy), but it didn't happen.

I'm testing my dear students on everything we've done this year. No specific questions about, "What was the name of Duncan's brother in Macbeth," but more overarching questions: identification of story elements, poetic devices, etc.; interpretation of figurative language, symbolism, themes, etc.; and not-too-difficult specific questions that they'd better darn well remember. Questions will all be recycled (but reworded) from old tests, or at least most of them will. The essay will require them to assimilate what they've learned over the year.

Thing is, there are some students that are good at assimilating. They think for themselves. They may not always be right, but their minds are working.

Other students are experts at spitting back exactly what I've told them. I hate that. I don't want a memorized, written transcript of my lectures. Even if I ask them to come up with an answer for themselves, they merely spit back what I've said in class. I have tried, tried to get them to do otherwise. But it's like some of them just don't get it.

I think, "Next year. Next year I'll work harder on that."

But there most likely won't be a next year. Although many of you have encouraged me to stick it out another year, I am leaning toward not doing so. I don't want to quit teaching altogether, but I think my days at this school are definitely numbered.

I was sad this afternoon, though. I was talking to a mom who said that she and her husband, along with several other sets of parents, had been planning to take their kids out of our school next year. But then, when they learned I was going to be teaching all four sections of English, plus composition, and that their kid was going to have me for their English teacher, they'd decided to keep their kid in the school.

More to ruminate on, or a sign that, if I'm going to resign, I need to do it sooner rather than later?

This is so hard.

Carnival of Education

2006-05-24T06:45:00.000-04:00

The Carnival of Education for the week is up at NYC Educator. I submitted something from this blog. Thanks to all who have hopped over here from there!

Job Fair, and Some Thoughts

2006-05-23T06:52:00.000-04:00

I'd never been to a job fair before, so I didn't know what to expect. It was to start around 9:00, so I got there at about 8:50. Drove all over creation before I could find a parking place. It was about 9:00 when I finally began the walk toward the huge crowd of prospective teachers milling around outside the job-fair building. I soon found myself in the first of many lines that I'd stand in that day.

I eventually signed in and made a name tag ("just put your name and area of certification"). I wrote my name and ... hmm. I'm not certified. I put "English 9-12" anyway. That's supposedly my specialty, or at least the area I will be certified in once I've gained enough credit for the state's lateral-entry teacher-certification program.

Most people there seemed to be recent college grads and were dressed in interview outfits--the blazer and such. I felt a little underdressed, but I did notice that the older attendees (of which I was one) were also a little less dressed-up than the younguns.

First stop was the lateral entry booth. I talked to the woman there, picked up a list of requirements, and told her I'd be at her presentation in an hour. Then I started visiting the tables. Each table represented a school district and had vacancies listed. There were a few English vacancies. I stopped at every district within 45 minutes of my house. When I got to my own county's table, I told them how much I'd love to teach in the Podunk County school system. They were very gracious and encouraging and asked if I'd be willing to teach middle school English and science. "Sure," I said. "I love middle school, and I'm teaching science this year anyway."

At 10:00, I went to the lateral-entry informational meeting. They told me a few things I didn't know and a lot I already did know. The woman who was giving the presentation made lots of nervous jokes about being an unappreciated, underpaid teacher. I appreciated her efforts, but the jokes got a little old. She talked about the requirements for becoming a principal ("just how easy it really is"), and I found myself thinking, "Hm. I might be a good principal."

Then something happened. I sat there and thought to myself, "What am I doing here? Why did I just tell the Podunk County rep that I would love to teach middle school English and science? I most certainly wouldn't love to do such a thing. Why am I thinking about being a principal? When did I start thinking this way?"

See, the whole reason I went into teaching--the whole reason I've ever gone into any line of work--was to enable me to write more. My true calling is to write, and maybe by writing, teach. I love teaching, and I seem to have a gift for it. But, as noble a calling as it is for many, it's simply a means to an end for me. Or it started that way.

When did I decide I needed to be an educational Wonder Woman who can design and teach five classes in a single bound--all during my first year on the job? When did I accept it as "okay" to work 100+ hours a week for less money than I made my first year out of college, and no benefits? Where did I lose myself in all of this? How could I have forgotten about writing?

I forget about it every time, though. In my last cubicle job, before I started teaching, I forgot about writing. I got so bogged down in the work of the job, and so frustrated and depressed by the boredom of it, that I had no energy left for creative writing when I got home. This past summer, which was supposed to be a summer of working on my novel, turned into a roller-coaster ride of short-term jobs mopping floors, wiping tables, and entering data into a computer.

I end up hating every job I have because, ultimately, it takes me away from my writing. I love teaching, but I've come to hate teaching at my school because it's so much of a do-it-yourself job that I barely have the energy to shower in the morning--much less work on a novel or a poem.

Back to the job fair. After this little epiphany, I went back to the the booths and tables and talked to a few more of the reps, some of whom were principals. I talked to one in particular who was looking for an English teacher and who, in looking over my resume, was really impressed that I'd thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail. I'm e-mailing him today and telling him that it was nice meeting him and I hoped he would consider me for the job. It's the best fit for me, subject- and grade-wise, as well as commuting-wise.

While standing in the many lines yesterday, we prospective teachers would talk about our current jobs and the types of jobs we were looking for. I stood with several experienced teachers in one line and told them about my job (not complaining ... just telling them what I do), and they looked horrified. "That's just too much," one woman kept saying. "That's just too much work for one person."

It is. It's too much, and it's wrecking my health. If I'm offered a job teaching high-school English in this or one of the two surrounding counties, I'm going to seriously consider it. The grass may not be any greener over there, but at least it'll include double the pay, plus benefits.

Back to school for me. My first-period class is starting to file in.

Questions Answered

2006-05-22T23:33:00.000-04:00

The events today--the job fair, the teacher appreciation thing, several e-mails and phone calls that I had--answered a lot of questions. They weren't necessarily the answers I wanted, but they were the answers I got. Ironically (or not), they were the same answers I got several weeks ago--the same answers that I ignored in order to keep asking the same questions.

I have a lot to think about, and a lot to do. I was offered a summer job by the same company that I worked for (part-time) last summer. They'll pay me $12/hour for 20 hours a week. Know what that means? That means I'll make almost as much per month as I currently make per month for working about 100 hours a week.

I don't think I'm going to take the summer job, though. I did a lot of thinking today--a lot of thinking, and a lot of writing. A lot of working things out in my head. And the answers--the answers I didn't want to hear--kept bobbing up like the tennis balls we used to play with in the swimming pool. I tried to push them back under, but they wouldn't stay there.

So that's where I stand now. I don't want to write much on the questions or the answers tonight. But I will soon, once I'm better able to articulate them. For now, it's time for bed.

Big Day Today

2006-05-22T07:15:00.000-04:00

I think today will reveal many things. This morning I'll go to the regional job fair for teachers. Public schools (including a couple of charter schools) from nine counties will be represented. I have copies of my application, my resume, and my transcripts, as required, and hope to chat it up with reps from the seven or so schools that are within driving distance of my house.

I'm not particularly nervous, but I'm aware of my shortcomings. I know that English teachers aren't in great demand, and it doesn't help me that I'm not certified and only have one year of experience under my belt.

On the other hand, I'm mature, have years of professional experience in other fields, have a master's degree, and am a published author. It also helps that my specialty is in teaching writing (I think).

So today is the job fair. But that's not all! Tonight is a teacher-appreciation banquet at my school. I will, along with the rest of the teachers, receive tokens of teacher-appreciation. I will not, however, receive a higher-than-~~expected~~needed raise or benefits for next year. Still, I think it'll be a nice banquet.

Will my experiences today tilt me in the direction of taking a new job? Or will they send me scurrying back to the old one, thankful for what I have? We'll see. I'm not nervous about the job fair or the interviews, but I do have kind of a jittery eagerness to know the outcome. I'm excited, but at the same time, I wish today was over already.

I'll be posting my reactions, reflections, and thoughts either tonight (if I'm not too tired) or tomorrow. Stay tuned.

Vacillating

2006-05-19T13:35:00.000-04:00

Earlier this week, in a conversation with my principal, I found myself saying things like, "I'm so excited about next year," and "I just can't wait to start teaching American Literature," and (here's the crazy one) "I'll be happy to write the policies and procedures for administration and faculty." Oh, and I said I'd design a special curriculum for the English department (I am the English department) based on state standards.

I keep getting ideas for how I'm going to do things next year. I've already written up a set of goals and objectives for each grade (ninth through twelfth) as the first steps of "curriculum planning."

I'm still scheduled to go to the regional teachers' job fair on Monday. I have my application, my resume, my transcripts, everything I need. Part of me still desperately wants to work somewhere else, but then I think ... at least I'm established at this school. I've built up a reputation as a hard, no-nonsense teacher. It took a while to build.

I'm also respected here, I think. Academically, at least. People know that I know my subject, and the administration gives me a lot of freedom. (Heck, they're allowing me to draft the school's English curriculum!)

It's helped that the past week has been very low-key. My seniors are on senior trip, so classes have been light. I finished up lesson plans for both English Lit and Fundamentals of Lit; all we have from here to exams are review sessions and a film. I do have a lot of grading to do, but I'm saving that for the weekend.

I think the job fair is going to answer a lot of questions. I'm fully prepared to stay at my current school, unless something comes up at the job fair that I simply cannot turn down.

I hope there's a clear answer either way, because I'm tired vacillating.

Valuable Feedback

2006-05-16T12:39:00.000-04:00

I have received such valuable feedback from those who have visited, so many thanks go to CaliforniaTeacherGuy, Gannet Girl, and Dana for their input. I'm going to send the link to some other educators who may not read my blog on a regular basis (if at all), now that my "new blog announcement" is getting buried beneath more recent posts.

The main reason I'm writing this stuff here rather than on my other blog, by the way, is that some of my students know my other blog's address, and they don't need to see their school's shortcomings from my point of view (although I'm pretty sure that none of them read it on a regular basis). The administrators actually know a lot about how I feel (I'm bad about voicing my frustrations!), though they might not be thrilled that I'm posting them on a blog that everyone knows is mine. I don't necessarily plan for this temporary blog to be a private blog; I just want it to be separate from my usual blog.

I plan to write on several more issues in the next few days, including (1) the challenges of teaching at a "homeschool" school, (2) the things I really love about teaching (at this school in particular), and (3) questions about how much of the solution I should try to be in the event that I do stay at this school.

I'll probably write more than that, knowing me. I have a way of not being able to stop writing once I start. :)

Again, thanks for your comments so far. They have been a huge help.

The Kid Who Hates Your Class

2006-05-15T12:30:00.000-04:00

This post was updated on May 16, 2006.

I have a couple of students who hate my class. No matter what I've tried to do to engage them, no matter what the topic of discussion is, they sit there like dead frogs and stare vacantly at me. They don't do their work, in class or out, and they never turn anything in. I call their parents, who are duly concerned, but even their influence doesn't do much.

My comp students are working on in-class essays. One is just sitting there, half-asleep with his head on his desk, drawing circles. This is a high-functioning kid, stellar SAT scores, etc. But he just sits there, eyes half-shut, drawing circles. So I go over to him and we do a pre-writing cluster. I tell him, "You can do this yourself, but if you're going to sleep, I'll be happy to sit here and hold your hand through every step of the essay."

"No, I'll work by myself."

A few minutes later, there he is. Head down, drawing circles.

So I go over and we write an outline. He says, "Really, I'll work by myself." I say, "OK. I don't mind if you take time to think and not write, but you need to do the work to get credit. You can't sleep."

"OK, I'll work." Now he's sitting there, pretending to write. I can see the pen moving, but it's not touching the paper. He's just pretending. And he looks up at me occasionally to see if I'm watching. This is a sixteen-year old. Not a fourth-grader.

It's really odd. It makes me wonder if he might be taking drugs, or not getting enough sleep, or something.

The other kid is in a different class. Same behavior, though. Only he's not quite as creative. He only draws lines.

I guess the reason I'm writing this is that I want to emphasize that my misgivings about teaching next year aren't due to the kids who are less-than-interested in my fascinating topic, my dazzling lectures, or my irresistably challenging essay topics. I don't expect kids to love English as much as I do--heck, I've met very few adults who have my passion for it. Several friends have said, "It must be hard when kids aren't interested in the subject." Not really. I just try to shed light on how interesting it truly is, and hope they'll see. Some have, and some haven't. And for those who haven't, well, they still need to do the work in order to get the grade.

No, the problem I have isn't with the students. I love the students, from the most enthusiastic writer to the kid who draws circles. I care about them, and I try to meet them where they are. It's part of what I love about teaching--learning to meet them where they are, showing them how fascinating literature and writing can be, and (hopefully) lighting a bit of a fire in them for the subject--and, more importantly, for learning.

Money and Benefits

2006-05-15T06:10:00.000-04:00

We all know that teachers, particularly private-school teachers, aren't in it for the money.

When I signed my contract last year, I just smiled and shook my head. I was accepting an hourly salary that was significantly lower than what I made my first year out of college, 15 years ago, when I got a job as a secretary at an accounting firm. My salary is less than what the other teachers at my school make (because of the original contract, which had me working part time in the library ... that didn't happen because I was assigned all of the other classes, but the pay rate never changed). It's a little more than half of what a first-year teacher at a public school makes.

I can live with that; it's not like I'm the only breadwinner in the house. My husband works for a nonprofit, which means he's also overworked and underpaid, but at least he makes more than I do.

At the same time, it's difficult when the stresses of school are compounded by the fact that we're scraping by every two weeks, trying to pay the bills and afford food and keep the cars gassed up.

I'm also worried about not having health insurance. It will cost upwards of $300 a month for me to be on my husband's policy. I've checked out several different companies, and what's affordable for me is a major medical policy with a company like Blue Cross-Blue Shield. It doesn't cover non-major-medical things like annual OBGYN appointments, dental, and other less-major things that I've needed and not been able to have.

So, I haven't had health insurance for the last year. If I get in a wreck, if I come down with cancer or some other tragic illness, if I even get pregnant, I'm up a creek, financially. (Although being stressed to the point of illness is an excellent method of birth control, I might add!)

This is another concern I have about staying at my school: is the pay worth it? I would love to be idealistic and say I'd teach for free (which I've actually thought, from time to time), but the reality is that we are scraping by, not saving because there is nothing left to save, and playing Russian roulette with our savings by not having insurance. I really could have used a therapist and medication this year (I'm bipolar), but we just didn't have the money.

If I weigh a few of the pros and cons of my job and other jobs, here they are:

MY SCHOOL
Pros
Atmosphere: Really good, well-behaved kids and non-threatening, family atmosphere; administrators that I love and admire (personally, if not as administrators)
Preps: The thought of teaching World Lit and American Lit, in addition to the others, actually excites me.
Familiarity: I'm learning the ropes, and I'll have a much better idea of how to adjust next year

Cons
Salary and Benefits: Discussed above
Preps: Too many. I can only do so much, and I don't know if I have it in me to handle so many classes.
Working Environment: See all other posts.

PUBLIC SCHOOL
Pros
Salary: twice as much as I'm making now
Preps: only two preps, and two planning periods are the norm
Benefits: I'd have 'em, regardless of my past medical history

Cons
New job ... and new jobs are always stressful
Classes: Larger classes, possible behavior problems
Distance: Longer commute (most likely)
Curriculum: Less freedom in what I'm able to teach

CORPORATE AMERICA
Pros
Salary: four times what I'm making now
Benefits: I'd have 'em, regardless of past medical history
Preps: None!

Cons
Corporate America: I wouldn't be teaching, and I love teaching, despite all of the complaints you've read on this blog.
Commute: If I went back to work in Corporate America, that would most likely mean a 45-minute commute every morning and every evening.

I'll post more about how I love teaching soon. I know a lot of this blog is about the negative side of it, but hey--that's part of why I started this blog. So I could share the negatives with others and consider (with your input) whether I should go back or not.

Part of me wants to go back, despite everything. But part of me wonders if I'm up to another year of it. The financial aspect is a big issue.

The Challenges

2006-05-14T11:16:00.000-04:00

My first year of teaching held many challenges for me. It was difficult, I must admit, learning at the last minute that I would be teaching numerous classes that I hadn't prepared for. On top of that, the school had no mentoring system and did not necessarily abide by the state's educational standards. I had no guidance. That's the first challenge.

Challenge #1: Lack of Guidance. So I sought out guidance. There was one other English teacher at the school, and she'd taught all of the high-school English classes the year before. Surely, I thought, she would have advice, a curriculum, perhaps even some lesson plans and worksheets that I could use.

Nope. She was kind to me, but she offered little more than bitter, negative criticism of the school, its students, and their parents. What started out as a potential meeting for idea-sharing turned into a one-sided bitch session. (Not that the teacher was a bitch. She was very nice; she was just bitter. Now that I have a year of teaching under my belt, I understand a little of how she was feeling.)

My principal, who was also the lead teacher for the high school, offered lots of sympathetic smiles and kind words, but she didn't give me any real guidance. In fact, no one ever asked to see my year plan, my lesson plans, copies of my tests and assignments, anything. I was only evaluated once, and that was an informal evaluation by a middle-school teacher. The administration tells me what a great teacher I am, but no one has ever seen me teach or offered advice and suggestions for improvement based on my teaching. True, I've actually brought copies of lesson and unit plans to the principal for her perusal, and she's been very positive. But it wasn't something I was required to do. I just did it because I had no clue whether I was doing things right or not.

So. Lack of guidance has been a real frustration from the start. I actually sought out a couple of "mentors"--a ninth-grade English teacher at the local public school, a retired AP English Lit teacher I met at a coffee shop, and my own ninth-grade English teacher from high school. But, although their advice was valuable and helpful, it wasn't what I most desperately needed--someone to help me through the first year at my particular school, with its complete lack of communicated academic standards.

Challenge #2: Workload Issues. Speaking of academics ... parents complained early on that I was giving too much homework. I tried to limit homework for my class to thirty minutes a night, though, I'll admit, sometimes it went longer, as in the case of assigned papers, longer reading assignments, etc. I required that all students write a reading response journal to everything they read for my English Lit class, and parents claimed that it was too much work. I gave homework on Wednesday nights and weekends and was told it was against school policy, since kids have church on Wednesday nights and need to focus on family time on the weekends.

So. I was allowed to give homework on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday nights. And homework couldn't take students more than 15 minutes. Hm. This was particularly frustrating after I learned that, other than the Spanish teacher and myself, none of the other teachers assign homework on a regular basis. So it's not like my 30 minutes of reading and writing was being added to loads of homework from other teachers. It was just taking up a bigger piece of the not-very big pie of homework that they already had.

Challenge #3: Scheduling. I'm going to write a lot more about scheduling in a separate post, so I'll just tell you a little bit about it now. The big issue was that, due to a scheduling problem, I lost my British Lit class every Friday. So, in addition to the homework restrictions, I lost a day each week of a class.

Then, since British Lit had been scheduled for the last period of the day, and since 80% of my British Lit students played school sports, we lost numerous classes because of students having to leave early for away games.

It was hard to teach under those circumstances. I did the best I could. The students, parents, and administration have all told me that the kids have learned more in my class than they ever have in an English class. This makes me happy, I suppose, but it also makes me sad. There is so much that we didn't address, so much that we needed to address in a British Literature class.

Those are just a few of the challenges I dealt with in my first year of teaching. There were certainly more, and I'll address them in future posts. Lack of guidance, workload issues, and scheduling were the three biggies, though. Many of the other challenges were merely variations on those themes.

The Hours

2006-05-14T10:55:00.000-04:00

This will be a short post, and then I'll take a break. I've been typing all morning. I guess I've been wanting to write all of this down for some time. Now that I'm finally giving myself an outlet for it, everything seems to be streaming out into the keyboard and onto the screen.

This post is about my work hours. I realized early on that teachers work just as many hours per year as any overworked Corporate American; they just fit all of those hours into nine months, whereas the Corporate American spreads them out over twelve.

When I started teaching, before I had my classroom, I literally worked 16 to 18 hours a day. Much of that work was done at the bug table in the school's foyer, since I didn't have a classroom. Some of it was done at coffee shops, and most of it was done at home. What amazed me was that, despite all of the work, I never seemed able to catch up. It amazed my husband, too. It's not like I'm a slow worker; I've always been a fast, thorough worker--it's one of my strengths as an employee. So why did so many hours of work seemingly yield so few results?

Here's what my schedule was like, and is still like, to some degree:

4:30 or 5:00 a.m. Wake up. Finish grading papers if necessary (often I'd be too tired to grade them the night before, and I generally needed to get drafts back to students by a certain time so they'd be able to get started on their revisions.)

6:45 a.m. Shower, get ready for school, eat breakfast, etc.

7:45 a.m. Arrive at school. Write the day's assignments on board (I could do this once I got my classroom.) Before I had the classroom, I would sit at the bug table and write the assignments in a notebook, word-for-word, so I wouldn't forget anything when assigning things later.

8:00 a.m. Homeroom (This was only after I got my classroom.)

8:15 a.m. First period is a planning period, so I spend much of this time copying handouts, worksheets, etc., for my classes (I didn't have a British Lit textbook, and the composition "textbook" was more of a reader than a textbook, so I had to write a lot of exercises on my own.)

9:10 a.m. Second period: Science. I really love teaching this class. I love the students, and a lot of learning goes on in there. We have quite a bit of fun, too. I'm actually kind of good at making up games that are both fun and educational, and seventh graders are still young enough to enjoy them.

10:05 a.m. Second planning period. Because a lot of my students have study hall this period, this is often the time that I'll schedule teacher-student conferences for writing help. It's what I'd call my "office hours" if I was a college instructor. Although I sometimes do class planning during this period, I'm much more likely to spend it working with a student, calling parents, or meeting with parents.

11:00 a.m. First section of British Lit. This is a small section, and I enjoy this class. I wish there were more kids in it, though; when you have so few, it's sometimes hard to generate class discussion. Also, if more than two kids are absent, I end up teaching to less than 50% of the class.

11:55 a.m. Composition. A good class of smart, college-bound kids who want to learn. I really enjoy teaching this class.

12:45 p.m. Lunch in the maddeningly loud lunchroom. We're "on duty" during lunch, so it's not exactly a respite.

1:20 p.m. Ninth-grade English class. A very creative group. I love these kids, even though other teachers don't because they're a bit rowdy. I'm very comfortable with this class, and I love their humor, intelligence, and creativity.

2:05 p.m. My second section of British Lit. It's a good class, but by the time this period rolls around, we're all so tired. Because of that, it's not nearly as good a class as it should be.

3:00 p.m. School's out! I stay after for about an hour and a half, grading homeworks, entering grades into the computer, and recording the days assignments into an Excel file that I keep. I also sometimes write a bit of self-reflection into the Excel file, but mostly I save that stuff for my journal.

4:30 p.m. This is supposed to be my work-out time, but I'm often too tired to work out. Still, I go to the gym and try to exercise for at least 20 minutes. Pathetic, but it's all I have energy for. Sometimes I'll just go straight to the coffee shop and start planning the next day. Other times a student will stay after school for tutoring, or we'll have a teacher's meeting.

6:00 p.m. Make dinner, eat dinner, do dishes.

7:00 p.m.-11:00 p.m. Planning. It takes me at least an hour to plan each class, sometimes more. I don't always finish planning at 11:00. I'll either go later, or wake up earlier. I sometimes need to write tests, or assignments, or grade papers, which adds to out-of-class time I have. As you can probably figure out, I often feel overwhelmed.

11:00 p.m. -5:00 a.m. Bed. Toss and turn. I've had a bad problem with insomnia since August. I guess I am so wound up, stressed, and overwhelmed that sleep doesn't come easy. NyQuil helps, but it also leaves me groggy the next day. I am always tired.

I love playing the piano and writing, and exercise is important to me. I work so much, though, that all of those have taken a back burner in my life schedule this year.

Weekend are spent (1) trying to catch up while (2) planning what I can for the following week so that I don't get behind.

OK, so this wasn't such a short post. But I'm going to take a short break from blogging for now. I'll write more later, so please come back.

My Take on Academics

2006-05-14T10:22:00.000-04:00

This is a rambly post that started out as one thing and ended up as another. While it's not the most organized post in the world, it does, I think, offer a good idea about how I feel about academics, school, and English education.

When I think of a school and its purpose, I admit that I'm a bit idealistic. I was a shy child, not very sociable, and I didn't particularly like the social aspect of school when I was young. For that reason, I often felt that I "hated" school.

But I didn't hate school. I hated being around all those other kids, I hated the cliques of junior high and high school, I hated the popularity contests, but I didn't really hate school. I loved class time. I loved reading, studying, and learning. I actually enjoyed studying for tests and writing papers. Weird, I know, but to each her (or his) own.

I particularly loved English. I'd always loved reading, but I first discovered my real passion for literature in the tenth grade, when I read Emerson's "Self-Reliance." It was like lightning struck me--a real epiphany moment as I read and digested things like "Trust thyself; every heart vibrates to that iron string." And then, when I took British Lit the following year, I was struck again by literary lightning--this time by that of Blake, Wordsworth, and Keats. I knew, after reading them, that I wanted to be an English major when I went to college. Writers like Emerson, Whitman, Dickinson, Blake, and Wordsworth literally changed the course of my life. They changed the way I thought about things. They opened my eyes and my mind.

Enough waxing poetic about the poets. Back to school.

My school worked its students hard. It was notorious in the city for doling out more homework than any other school, and for challenging its students beyond what , perhaps, was reasonable. But we did well. We got good SAT scores and went to good colleges. We excelled in college and got good jobs. The work in high school was hard, but it was necessary if we were going to excel in the world.

I loved college. I adjusted well, after my rigorous prep-school education. If I ever found college less-than-challenging, I would create my own challenges. I suppose I was an overachiever, but I literally had a thirst for knowledge. I actually copied down footnote references and sought out works cited so I could learn more.

I did well in college. For one of my end-of-year evaluations, one of the English profs wrote that she hoped I was planning to go to grad school because I was "definitely grad-school material."

Of course I was planning to go to grad school. My biggest frustration with college academics was that everything went too fast; I was more interested in digging deep into a subject, but it seemed the moment things got interesting, it was time to move on to the next poet, or the next era, or the next semester. In grad school, I thought, I'd be able to dig deep into those topics that interested me. By the time I graduated college, my main interests in literature were 17th-century British Lit and the Romantics (the Brits, not the Americans).

Grad school was a disappointment. It was hard, and I learned a lot, but no one there seemed to love literature for its own sake; literature was, instead, a tool to be used to forward different political or cultural agendas (feminism, Marxism, ~~racism~~ African-American studies, etc.). Interest in the DWMs (Dead White Males) was considered gauche, particularly for a young female such as myself. It seemed we were supposed to approach all literature with suspicion and distrust, and that any author who seemed to show bias against women or other races or cultures was to be held in a sort of self-righteous contempt.

I had never been around so many angry, bitter people in my life, and I hated it. I switched my focus to rhetoric, composition, and linguistics. I took the non-thesis option and left grad school as soon as I could. M.A. degree in hand, I walked away and didn't look back--even though I'd been accepted into the Ph.D. program and several faculty members tried to convince me to stay.

I love literature. I'm perhaps a bit idealistic and romantic about it. But I look to it for wisdom and inspiration. I really don't care if Wordsworth and Milton were male chauvanists. It doesn't mean I don't have a lot to learn from them. What does it matter if they wouldn't have given me the time of day if we'd been contemporaries? They're dead, and I'm not.

When I teach these writers to my high-school students, I communicate my passion for them. I leave out all of the ugliness and suspicion that I saw in grad school. I want to instill in them an appreciation and maybe even a love for these poets and writers and texts, as well as the ability to read and understand them.

I also work my students hard. I try to work them hard enough that they'll gain important skills (writing, critical thinking, etc.), but not so hard that they're turned off to literature. It's a fine line, and I'm sure I've failed with quite a few of them. But I haven't failed with all of them. Some--more than I expected--have responded positively.

Hard work. Passion for stories. Love for literature. Enjoyment of reading. Thirst for knowledge. Desire to communicate ideas about life and literature through writing. That's what my classes are all about.

The Working Conditions

2006-05-14T10:05:00.000-04:00

Working conditions were less than ideal at the beginning of school. I learned early that I wouldn't have a classroom. I went to the principal and the vice-principal and earnestly begged for a classroom. "I need a classroom," I said, pleading. "How can I teach without a classroom?"

"Don't fear," they said. "New classrooms are being built, and you'll have one of those. They should be ready by the time school starts."

They weren't ready. I continued to beg and plead, noticing (but not saying) that even the part-time teachers had their own classrooms. Sure, they had seniority over me, but I was full time. They left after lunch, and I used their classrooms.

It's not that I was trying to be selfish. It's just that having a classroom of your own entailed many things, including having a computer of your own, having a desk of your own, having a white board of your own, having a key (and privacy) of your own, and (I know this sounds petty) being able to write all of your class's assignments on the board, first thing in the morning, so you don't have to spend class time doing it.

Not having a classroom meant having to switch from room to room in the three minutes between classes, carrying a heavy bag full of books and teaching materials. (No carts were available, even though I asked for one. They said I should buy one of my own, but I couldn't afford it.) It meant never being able to go to the bathroom, unless I wanted the class to start late. It meant having to spend a couple of minutes (when I remembered) of each class writing the assignment on the board. It meant always feeling flustered, never resting. It meant having nowhere to sit during my planning period, no where to grade papers. It meant not having any privacy for parent-teacher conferences or phone conversations. It meant having to hang out in the office, or at the table in the foyer, when I wasn't in class. Even though there was nowhere for me to sit in the office, and the table in the foyer was covered with the middle school bug display collections. I would have to push bug collections out of my way in order to make room to grade papers.

What really upset me was one day, early in the year, when I voiced my frustrations to one of the administrative ladies. Mistake. She responded sweetly but coldly, "Well, you know, we all have to share."

We all have to share. I was the only teacher who didn't have a room of my own. I wasn't sharing, because I had nothing to share.

In December, I finally got my classroom. It's a large room, big enough for 20 desks and two big tables in the back where my science girls can have lab. It has two white boards and two bulletin boards. It has a desk, a file cabinet, and a computer. Life has been much, much easier since I got my classroom. I can lock the door when I leave, and I'm not having to carry nearly as much stuff around as I used to.

Before I had the computer at school, I had to do all my planning at home. Which meant I was up until all hours of the night writing assignments, grading papers, composing tests, etc. Once I got my own computer, I could do a lot of that work during my planning periods, which made my home life a little less hectic.

The only complaint I have about my classroom is that it's freezing cold in there. There's something about the air and heating system ... my class doesn't get heat. I brought some blankets for the kids and, with much complaining and noise-making, convinced the adminstration to buy me a small heater. We really need about four, but the one I have does OK. Kids just turn it on and huddle around it while I teach.

Other than that, it's all good. So things are much better now, but it sure was a struggle those first few months.

How I Became a Teacher

2006-05-14T09:46:00.000-04:00

When I was a little kid, I wanted to be a teacher. In the first grade, I decided I wanted to be a first-grade teacher. In second grade, I decided that wanted to be a second-grade teacher. In third grade ... well, you get the picture.

In the sixth grade, though, I decided I wanted to be a novelist and a poet. The idea of teaching was still a possibility, certainly, but writing was my true passion.

By the time I graduated from college, after struggling through several years of severe depression, I wanted to write, be a college English professor (as a way to support my writing habit), and do everything in my power to keep from getting depressed again.

After taking a year off from college, I went to grad school, since that's where you have to go if you're going to be a college professor. The academic world proved to be much less savory than I'd imagined, and I decided (sadly) that being a college professor wasn't for me. I took a few education courses while in grad school, and I also taught freshman composition and business writing as a TA, but the thought of teaching high school (or any other grade) really didn't appeal to me. After I got my M.A., I went to work in the corporate world.

Fast forward about ten years. I was losing my mind in the corporate world; the crazy deadlines, pissy co-workers, and boring work had me dancing with depression. I needed out. I didn't want to be depressed again, and besides, I had no sense of purpose in the corporate world. I had no sense that I was making a difference in anyone's life. The nature of my job was that I did lots of work that people only saw if there was a dire emergency; otherwise, it was just documentation that needed to be done.

Corporate America paid good money and offered great benefits, but I hated it. I needed something more meaningful. Besides, I missed writing and poetry.

Last March, I applied for a job teaching at a private Christian school in my town. It was small and had a friendly, homespun atmosphere. The academics weren't great, but the classes were tiny and the kids were good, so I thought it would be a good place for me to "get my feet wet" and decide if maybe I should be a high-school teacher.

I got the job. They hired me to teach writing (composition) and SAT prep.

Two weeks before school started, I stopped by and asked the principal if they had finalized the class schedules. She said they had, and handed me my schedule. On it, instead of various writing and SAT prep classes, I saw that I was also to teach Fundamentals of Literature (9th grade) and British Literature (12th grade).

The night of the first day of school, the principal called me and asked if I could take a seventh-grade science class, since I had an extra planning period available. I said I could.

So, two days into my teaching career, with only a few ed classes and a few freshman comp courses under my belt, I found myself teaching SAT prep, composition, British Literature, Fundamentals of Literature, and Life Science.

That, my friends, is the story of how I became a teacher. I'll write more later on how I like teaching, what my working conditions were like, and how those conditions affected me. Stay tuned!

This Blog is Temporary

2006-05-14T09:38:00.000-04:00

This is a temporary blog, as well as a "secret" blog (as if anything on the internet can be secret!). My other blog is a bit of a smorgasbord of posts on music, piano, writing, teaching, hiking, and myriad other things. The purpose of this short-term blog is to tell about my teaching experiences and to solicit advice from other, more seasoned teachers regarding whether or not I should go back for Year #2 of teaching. I'll outline those experiences over several posts, and I hope teachers are able to read them and offer impressions and suggestions.