I haven’t been around for a while, because I’ve been up to my gills in so much stuff.
Spirit Week - West Jordan Middle has one every year, and this year I was assigned as its chairman. Activities that I had to coordinate included: a women’s basketball game against the 9th grade girls team; a men’s game against the boys; two movies; dress-up themes and trivia for each day; daily announcements about activities; and an “Anything Goes” assembly. I had to coordinate all these events, including set up, take down, purchase orders, supplies, sound system, video equipment, stage crew, and on and on and on. A nightmare in juggling and delegation.
Bathroom renovation - Karin had had it with our bathroom, so last week we gutted much of it. New wallpaper, new sink and faucet, new paints, paneling, bla bla bla
To my weeping chagrin, I found out last week that I did not get the sabbatical leave I applied for. This would have given me 3/4 salary and full insurance benefits during my administrative program at BYU. Instead, I received merely an “educational leave,” which basically means that I have a job waiting for me after this year. Yippee. In the meantime, my wife and I have to make it through the 07-08 year with no salary, and figure out where we’re going to get insurance.
What really bugs me about all this is the way Jordan School District has handled it. When I applied for the leave last month, I was told to fill out the form and submit it; however, after finding out that I was rejected, I came to find out that the board paid special attention to one paragraph of the application, namely, the principal’s recommendation (literally only 4 lines of the entire application -- enough to write about three sentences on the applicant). Nice to know about this after the fact! Not knowing about this, my principal wrote a cursory, standard recommendation for me --- nothing out the ordinary. Needless to say it didn’t help.
When I found out that I was rejected, I wept off and on for a day. I lost sleep. It took me several days to come to terms with what had happened. I was angry at the district, angry at the system, wondering why I had ever gone into education, and angry at all of the politicking. I have since come to view this rejection as a blessing in disguise. Had I received the sabbatical, I would have been contractually obligated to Jordan School District for another two years after my schooling --- and Karin and I want to explore other options. The educational leave, on the other hand, has no contractual obligations. They simply guarantee me a spot when/if I return. It leaves us wide open to any school district.
Another thing that bugs me is that the district didn’t tell me personally that I was rejected. Instead, I found out at lunch when a colleague came up to me and told me that she had read about it in a district-wide email. That really hurt too.
While I’m talking about Jordan School District, may I just say that I am profoundly discouraged by their impersonal and indifferent treatment to us employees over the years that I’ve been with them. I’ve given them everything I have and am. During this last year they removed our retirement benefits. They also raised our insurance payments to about triple what they were last year. As one colleague put it, “You can be a teacher with one year of experience, or 35 years of experience --- it doesn’t matter to them. You’re just a number.”
The message is clear, and extends throughout the whole state. Education is not (and may never be) truly a priority in Utah. And why should it be? Test scores continue to be high, despite the fact that we spend the least per pupil of the 50 states. (If it ain’t broke don’t fix it, right?) By outward appearances, the educational system in Utah might not appear to be broken, but many of us teachers definitely are --- and not just financially. Especially at the middle school level, I feel like a once-damp washcloth that’s been rung dry. You can barely squeeze anything more out of me. Utah’s scores are great because of great families, and not necessarily the teachers. (You try giving a meaningful, effective lesson to 35 kids when there’s just one of you --- it’s virtually impossible. Teaching in Utah is more of an assembly line because of the number of students.)
While I have loved teaching, and been very successful at it, I am ready for a change in my career. Twelve years of teaching 8th grade English has taken its toll on me. And you can’t believe how incredibly complex and overwhelming teaching is on a daily basis unless you experience it personally. It’s a million miles a minute all day long. It’s a barrage of questions, many infinitely repeated and/or stupid. It’s breaking your back just to dog paddle above the surface. It’s brash rudeness, profanity, and defiance in your face. It’s being told how boring you and your lessons are. It’s constant interruptions. It’s a tightrope in the public eye (and some students stand at the bottom, laughing while they shake your poles), where any wrong move brings down a harsh and quick hammer of criticism from both parent and administrator. It’s getting blamed for society’s problems. It’s going to work before sunlight and going home after sundown. It’s mood swings and hormonal imbalances (and not just in the students). It’s gossip mongers and scandals. It’s a Christmas bonus in the form of a $15 gift certificate to Barnes and Noble. It’s hall duty. It’s endless committees. It’s so many duties, responsibilities, and bookkeeping that I can now see why many teachers’ desks look pretty much like they’re maintained by an active leaf blower. It’s coming home from my job so mentally fatigued every day that I can hardly see straight and my eyes beg to shut, and my wife thinks I’m deaf when I simply can’t concentrate after the work day.
On the other hand, I will dearly, desperately, tearfully miss my career. I have poured my whole heart, mind and soul into teaching during my career, and I have progressed incredibly as a teacher, man, husband, and father. It has been an incredible roller coaster. I feel that I’ve lived 12 lives in my 12 years of teaching. It’s relationships that will last a lifetime and make me weep just thinking on it. It’s unexpected letters and thank-you notes from students you least suspected, telling you that you were the only person who cared or the one who changed their life for the better. It’s sweet memories of having a student tell you that they finally understand. It’s laughter, spontaneity, and the lively personalities of budding teenage life. It's the stark poignancy and honesty of some students, and insightful, wise comments that defy their years. It’s autonomy in your job. It’s unexpectedly discovering a shy student who can write like Poe or Hemingway. It’s the joy of learning, and of being taught. It’s humor and love and funny faces. It’s definitely variety. It’s intercepting love notes. It’s a plethora of high fives in the hall. It’s smiles. It’s growth. It’s fun. It’s the drug of being admired. It’s the empowerment of leadership. It’s being guided by God.
Now that I’m accepted into the administrative program, our new battle is to figure out how to afford it. For the next year we will be salary-less. I will now be dedicating pretty much any spare moment to filling out financial aid applications and exploring our options.
Life is so busy, but I love what is happening. Our future is uncertain but very promising, and I am full of hope --- and dependence on God.
