Teacher's Manifesto, Nonfiction Essays, Hoping for feedback

[Reader Rabbit]

For several years now, I've been writing rants about my job as a sort of free therapy, and I've decided to try to compile them into a book of sorts. I'm worried that non-teachers might not enjoy them as much as my co-workers seem to. I'd like to post a few here, and get some reactions, if that's okay.

Here is the most recent rant:

Codependents vs. Clock-Punchers: Searching for a Happy—and Healthy—Medium

"What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly."
—Thomas Paine

Every school has at least one martyr. Most have a number of them. Some schools and districts actively promote teacher martyrdom as the accepted professional code of conduct. (Of course, district office administrators never include themselves in this requisite martyrdom.)

Martyrs are easy to identify. They have little or no life other than teaching. Their entire sense of self-worth stems from the sacrifices they make—personal life, health and well-being, willingness to speak out—in the name of their calling. They come to school early, and they stay late. They consider it a badge of honor to be the first one in the building and/or the last one to leave. Some schools have competing martyrs who compare hours spent at school, each striving to outstay the other, patting each other on the back for their mutual dedication in some sanctimonious, self-congratulatory circle jerk.

In all schools, the martyrs look down on those who do not share their philosophy of sacrificing oneself on the altar of public education. Martyrs usually form groups of discipleship with other martyrs for the sole purpose of looking down their noses those who “don’t really care.” Teachers who have personal or family commitments that require them to arrive and leave at the hours designated by the contract are granted a sort of dispensation and looked on with a benign contempt, but those who could stay and choose not to are judged lesser beings. Those who speak out against inequities, outrages, or outright lunacy are considered whiners who are interested only in their own comfort and convenience. In some cases, a martyr might even sidle up to one of these lesser forms of humanity and suggest that they need to quit their “bitching” or get out of teaching.

Now anyone who has read a single self-help book or watched an episode of Dr. Phil should have no difficulty seeing the appalling dysfunction in this system. The phrase “You would if you loved me” is a red flag in any relationship. If there is to be healthy interaction and mutual respect between individuals, emotional blackmail should never come into the equation. Unfortunately, the entire public education system in America is built on emotional blackmail.

From the moment we step into the classroom, teachers are constantly confronted with the straw man of “If you really cared, you would ________.” Fill in the blank with any questionable proposal you can think of; I guarantee, teachers have faced most of them.

What other profession not just expects, but in most cases demands, that its practitioners give up their time, knowledge, and experience for free? What other profession demands that its practitioners spend money from their own pockets in order to do their job with any semblance of success—and has no interest or intention of reimbursing those expenses? What other profession expects its practitioners to face constant abuse with no respite and no form of redress? What other profession mandates when, where, and how long its practitioners can eat, drink, or use the toilet? And in what other profession are the practitioners not just willing, but in many cases proud, to cooperate with their own oppression?

If this were a relationship, it would be considered dysfunctional at best, abusive at worst. The put-upon party would be murmuring about how they really loved their partners and that they wanted to stay together for the sake of the children. And Dr. Phil would be asking, “How’s that working for you?” Because a dysfunctional relationship will never change as long as one of the parties accepts regular ill-treatment. If that individual is unwilling to stand up for him or herself, the abuse will continue indefinitely. And the children, far from being protected by the facade of a stable relationship, will grow up thinking that the dysfunction is the norm.

This is one of the fundamental problems with public school in America. Why should it come as a surprise to anyone that our children do not see the value of education? They don’t see it valued by anyone else in our society, including many of the teachers themselves. They see a dysfunctional relationship where one partner willingly suffers abuse, inequity, and oppression silently, even eagerly, and they learn from what they see. And contrary to what the martyrs think, they don’t learn that teaching is an admirable, honorable profession, or that learning and education are priceless. They learn that knowledge and education are comparable to the bargain rack at the nearest dollar store and that teachers are not worthy of common courtesy, let alone respect.

Is it any wonder so many of them don’t do their homework?

[LWolf]

1. Nice.

I have, at times, been the martyr. Not blatantly. Not because I wanted to be. It's just that I wanted to feel like what I was doing professionally was worthwhile, I wanted to give my students the service their families expected. When I can't take pride in my work, I'm depressed and the rest of my life suffers. When I have to cannibalize my life to do a good enough job to take some pride in it, the rest of my life suffers.

I couldn't do it on contractual hours, or within budget. I've been trying for a dozen years now, and it's never worked. I'm finally left with compromise. I still spend, but I spend less. I arrive early, but make a huge effort to leave on time. I relearn how to say "no" every year. I limit the number of committees I will sit on; currently 2. I swore, when I moved to a new state, district, and school, that I would never do more than one committee. You know; the first staff meeting of the year, when the admin announces that everyone "must" sit on one committee. Hah. I took the spot on the school site council, only to find out that, as the only intermediate language arts teacher at my site, I was assigned to a district curriculum committee. Sub provided, as long as I don't mind the subplans and extra drive. Of course, with a new SIP due, we're having 3-4 SSC meetings a month. :grr:

I am doing my best to limit the number of meetings I attend each week. Usually 2-4, depending on staff meetings, ssc meetings, IEPs, ssts, parent requests for time, and various support staff "stopping by" to collaborate on students in common. Of course, every meeting adds extra hours to that contractual day, as I still have all the paperwork to do.

Between the inner conflict of wanting to do my best, but knowing that the system doesn't support my best, and the outer conflict of all those unwritten expectations of freely donated "extra duty" time, I wonder why anyone would ever knowingly enter this profession.

[Reader Rabbit]

2. It's tough not to fall into the trap.

I was a sometime martyr during my first seven years of teaching, but then I left for several years. When I returned, like you, I promised myself that I wouldn't stand for that type of abuse again, at least not silently.

In my school, we have a principal incapable of making a decision on his own, so he's created a massive number of committees. You can guess what happened next. Our core of 4-5 martyrs are on every single one, and they have no qualms about making decisions that attempt to force the rest of the staff into their own level of self-abasement. And the principal can sit back and wash his hands of any responsibility by saying, "Well, it was a staff decision." The only way the rest of us can prevent it are to give up scads of our own time to combat the presence of these individuals, which kind of defeats the purpose.

And you know teachers. Most of them are "go along, get along," so they complain in private groups, but never speak out in staff meetings. And thus do a few zealots make martyrs of us all.

It's frustrating that an entire school can be held hostage by a few fanatics. I think I need to insert a paragraph or two about that!

[Redbear]

3. I really like that

It seems that problem can apply in many other work situations. I know it applies in mine.