The Circus--I Mean Board Meeting

There was a lot of people at the board meeting last night, which went until 11:30pm! It was a mess. Three of us who went were sitting in the lounge today during lunch, someone asked how the meeting was, in unison we all replied,"bad!"

How can I describe to you, dear reader, what this meeting was like. I can only describe with a teaching analogy, so enjoy =).

Once I was teaching some third graders basic algebra and balancing equations. We were drawing scales. We were practicing saying = signs as "the same as". It seemed to be going pretty well. The kids were doing it correctly and nodding along. Finally, I asked, "Does anyone have any questions?"

One little boy raised his hand and said, "Miss Understood, you made a mistake."

"Okay, what is the mistake?" I asked.

"You have letters in the middle of your Math problems!" I looked around and the other heads were nodding in agreement.

I knew at once: they didn't get it. AT ALL... We had to start from the beginning.

So, what is it like at a board meeting? It is like the district superintendent and leadership council are me, and the board members are my students. The district leadership council explains the situation and recommendations and the board members seem to nod along. THEN the board members begin to ask questions and it becomes abundantly clear at once: they didn't get it. AT ALL...

What is it like to be a teacher in the audience at a board meeting? Well, I am a spectator, so it is like being a spectator at a tee-ball game for six year olds. Only you're a spectator whose bet thousands of dollars on the game. When the six year old first basemen suddenly sits down for all of the third inning, you find yourself wanting to yell, "what the Hell!" The outcome of the game is in no way dictated by logic or reason, but you know you will pay dearly if things don't go as expected. In a word, it is FRUSTRATING!

As of 11:30pm last night, the rif was approved, but apparently we can't have contracts because they want to change wording and possibly rif more teachers. So, no job security for now... Why would they want to let a team of accountants, lawyers, and educators make a sensible budget when we can have elected officials with no qualifications make their own plan??

Safe for Now

Well, another rif has come and gone without sweeping me away.

We got a series of emails from the teacher's association and district office warning that there will be another rif, pending board approval tomorrow, and that those effected would be notified today. Which is right on my predicted time block, as today was the first day outside of the official state testing window. Anyway, everyone was a bit jumpy to say the least!

I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw the V.P. walking around the corner.

In the end, though, I hung on again.

Tomorrow is the big board meeting where we can hear about other special surprises in store for us. The talk is that they're reducing the sub budget and at a certain point we'll have to take in kids of absent teachers. They're also, of course, increasing class size. We don't have supply budgets anymore, so there's nothing to cut there. We've already lost all classroom assistants (excepting those required for certain IEPs). I heard also there will be program reductions for Art, Music, and PE.

Tomorrow will announce some but not all of the new budgetary surprises.

So Much for Plan B

When I was a little girl, I didn't want to be a teacher. I had much bigger thoughts. I know some teachers recall playing school with younger siblings or toys. Not me, I wanted to be a princess. I ordered my toys and younger brothers around.

I always assumed that if teaching didn't work out, you know, if I got riffed or something, then I would go marry the prince of England.

The royal wedding is really ruining my fall back plan!

For Whom the Bell Tolls

I am dreading work tomorrow. Dreading.

For one thing, tomorrow begins state testing week. Our school cancels P.E., Music, Art, and Library so those teachers can help test students with testing accommodations. That means I have the twenty-three precious treasures with me from 7:45am all the way until 2:35pm every day: no breaks!

Really, though, it's not testing week that is making me dread work. Testing week marks the passing of time in a school. It is the beginning of the end of the school year. Trust me, I am ready for this school year to end. It's not that I don't like the kids; it's just that I am exhausted! The kids I have this year are so hard to teach and I am ready to roll the dice and get a new crowd. The odds of it being this bad again are low, also the upcoming gradelevel doesn't have the reputation of the kids who are now in third grade.

The thing that I am really dreading is the bad news on the horizon. I have gotten a series of e-mails from the superintendent saying that program cuts are coming. This means a rif, pay cuts, or both.

When the president is on his way out, they call him a lame duck. I think the district is refusing to tell us the exact nature of the cuts because they don't want a bunch of lame ducks administering tests that determine labels and funding. I get that, but I feel the storm approaching. Also, because of my lame duck theory, I am pretty sure that Monday we hear the bad bad news.

I read in the local paper yesterday that 39% of the people in my age bracket (18-28) in this metropolitan area are unemployed. My stomach turns a little when I think about the peril my job is in. I know that I am a good teacher, but that doesn't mean I'll find a job.

Inside the walls of my house right now all is well. I have a job that pays the bills and a roof over my head. I pay my all my bills and don't have any debts or loans. I am dreading going to work, because I feel like the Grim Reaper of jobs is lurking there waiting for me. Once he finds me, there is no escape.

I Want a Wild Card

I have a special headache. There is a certain part of my head that starts to hurt when I get overwhelmed by budget issues. It's damn near a migraine right now.

I've been right on the edge of our rif issues in the school district for two years. Last year I got so stressed out because I saw the impending threat of a rif coming at me like a freight train. I didn't know what to do if I was riffed because I was enrolled in grad school through the district. I ended up being temporarily being displaced, but I got to keep my job in the end.

According to my W-2's I've progressively made a little less money every year than I did when I got the amazing wages of a first year teacher. I have been threatened with a rif every one of the past three years, but hasn't actually happened to me yet.

This year I resolved to stave off worrying about it unless it actually happens. I can't do it, though. Things are bad. Things are worse than they've ever been, and we all know something serious is coming. Remember when I said I wish our superintendent would give a speech similar to that of the chief of police? For better or worse, he gave almost exactly that speech and it is going to run in several newspapers. At this point, I can no longer ignore the voice in my head saying, "brace yourself."

The thing is that this year I had it rough. I really did, and I know I've done a good job. I had a difficult job and I worked so hard to give these kids the best. I helped out with our school reading program. I worked nights and weekends. The kids have learned so much and I have been an excellent teammate. My team had problems before I came, but I am a team player and I've helped them. The thing is that none of that matters. In the end, it will come down to a number on a rif rubric. My glowing review from admin won't save me. Non-reader's parents who told me I'm the best teacher they've ever had can't help me. Bob's pictures of me as a superhero can't save me. It's a number.

My understanding of a wild card is that it started as a way to give teams who don't qualify by the book a shot. I know I am an asset to my school, and I wish I could apply for a wild card. I do.

The Man Behind the Screen

I am going to the bored meeting tonight--excuse me, I meant board meeting of course! How could I make that mistake?? I'd rather be watching LOST, and I will later. I just want some information from the source to set my mind at ease.

I wish they would just hand me a contract. I would sign it. Really. --Even if it was a bad deal for me.

This waiting game and hints of things to come makes me feel like a mouse being bated by a cat. The district keeps congratulating themselves on being transparent, but I can't see through whatever they are saying. For example, what does a rif involving "primarily" first and second year teachers mean? For example, what does significantly larger class sizes mean? I've had thirty one students in a class before. Does it actually mean significantly higher than that? Maybe I am really dense, but some of this does not seem transparent to me.

Riftide

I am a strong swimmer. I can't even remember before I could swim. I like surfing and I am not afraid of waves. Once, though, I did get caught in a riptide. It was a pretty scary experience. I was able to swim my way out, but it was not easy.

We finally got rif news, and it does look good for me. The district says it will "primarily" effect first and second year teachers. I have to wonder why "primarily" is thrown in there as a third year teacher with a late hire date. The thing that is difficult for these second year teachers is that this is the second rif they've been through. They will probably go through it again next year if they are rehired. They are caught in a rif tide.

If You Don't Love Me Let Me Go

I had an amazing weekend, but for the first time in a long time I am feeling that anxiety going back to work. Not because of the kids and not because of the administration or parents or anything like that. I just hear the battle drums approaching. The year is on it's way out, and that means facing what is going to happen next year. Some people are either in denial or they really don't see the writing on the wall, but there are going to be a lot of cuts and soon. It is all over the news and we just got an e-mail saying a rif is "likely." It sucks.

Apparently my school district is going to honor the April 15 contract date that our legislature threw out this year. That means that we will get a definite answer about who is rifed by then (at least preliminarily). What I mean is that it is likely to be a large number of pink slips, but some of them may be rescinded if and when the sales tax increase passes.

I don't know why I would actually be happier to have a pink slip in my hand than to just have the threat of one. It will still leave a lot of unknowns. Will I be rehired? Will I work somewhere else in the state? Will I do something different entirely. What will I do about my final semester of graduate school in a district program?

I just like to feel that the powers that be are being straightforward. I just want them to quit being so mysterious and publically say, "yes, you're job is being cut." It is not like that is going to be a good thing, but at least it is an honest thing.

It will take a bigger bite out of my motivation, though. Maybe that is why they are being so mysterious. They want me to hang on to hope so they can squeeze the best service out of me they can get before they throw me out on the street. Awesome.

From the Heart

Thanks to my commenters on the last post. I have been struggling a lot lately because I am afraid (with good reason) that I will lose my job due to the budget cuts. My state has been hit really hard by the economic crisis. My school district rifed teachers last year due to budget cuts and we haven't gotten any word about when contracts are coming. I heard a rumor yesterday that there will be pay cuts for everyone who keeps a job and another rif.

Everyday, I drive by seas of foreclosure sales on the way home for work. Almost daily on the local news they are covering lay offs and other economic woes. In all of this, I was most impressed by the police chief. The police force in this city laid off over two hundred officers due to budget cuts. I have so much respect for the chief who addressed the public saying the following, "We will do our best to keep this city safe, but we will not provide the same level of service we have. It is not possible in the face of these cuts. We cannot do it."

I know that in education there will be no speech like this. Just in case, though, I thought I would write a speech for our superintendent to address the public. I am including the text of this speech below.

This district has for twenty years provided a free education to the children in this community that is superior to almost any education in this state, a state that has always ranked in the bottom five percent of funding for education. This is remarkable and the educators in this district should be commended. I believe, that in the face of these budget cuts these educators will continue to do remarkable things. We cannot and should not, however, expect or demand miracles. Reduction in staff and increased workload carry a price. Loss of supplies, professional development, and maintenance will cost. It may be that we don't have a choice, but we need to understand the price and who will pay it. I can make no promise for a miracle that will maintain the quality of education we once offered.

The Things No One Tells You

For some teachers "education" is like a mistress. Adulterous to all the other facets of life they run after it. They ruin their marriages literally and figuratively.

It's like an addiction. These teachers get burned and ask for more.

For me, at the stage I am at now, education is more like a bad boyfriend. It's like a boyfriend who threatens to break up with me all the time and sometimes tells me that I am not good enough for him despite my complete devotion and loyal service. Yet I persist in my devotion, maybe even my obsession, because on some level I love him. I love education and I love this job. I want to believe that in some way he loves me back, that he needs me, or that he is good for me.

People warned me not to enter into my volatile relationship with education. "You're young, and there's a lot of other things you could do," they told me. I wouldn't listen; I dived head first into this disastrous relationship with my whole heart.

I think my relationship with "education" is as bad as ever. With the threat of a rif hanging over my head, with being told I may not know if I have a job until August, with the threat of more pay cuts, and more difficult assignments things don't look any better. Yet, in another way, I love "education" more than I did three years ago. Even after all that I've been through in this field, I hope that I get to keep teaching not because I want a paycheck but because I want to teach.

At some point, though, I have to ask the question: Is my love for "education" enough to stay in a field that treats me like this forever?

These are the things about being a teacher that you can't see until you see them for yourself. The life of a teacher in public education is hard. No one tells you that your heart and head will get all mixed up and you'll love it and hate it at the same time. No one tells you that you'll think about quitting. No one tells you that you'll take the fall for politics and poverty and cultural denigration. No one tells you that it's not just hard work, but it actually hurts when you give it your all and politics just slaps you in the face. No one tells you that sometimes one kid will change and you'll think it's all been worth it. No one tells you that the next day the budget will change and you'll be worried about how to pay your bills at all. No one tells you why something can seem so important and be treated like it doesn't matter at all. It is just one bad boyfriend.

I wish that I didn't love it at all.

The Cuts Are Coming

I hoped that it wouldn't happen. I hoped that funding would happen. It didn't. All Day Kindergarten will not be funded next year. I was doing the Math and it will mean reducing the elementary teaching staff in my district by forty certified teachers. That would be the number if there is not increased class size due to additional cuts or a drop in enrollment.

I hope that I will hear if I am cut sooner rather than later because I've got to start planning.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of fourth quarter. I'll go to work and try not to worry about all of that. Whatever the future holds, this job needs to be done now.

Strange Thought

Happy endings are kind of an oxymoron. Personally, I prefer an ending with a little more reality. You can call me cynical, but I haven't experienced many endings that aren't tinged with sadness, pain, and some regret. Who stands at a grave and thinks, "Wow, I really had enough time with this loved one"? Who wouldn't feel a twinge of sadness when her child grows up and moves out on his own? Who, when a break-up that needs to occur happens, feels joyful? It's a Wonderful Life is a great movie, but I feel the ending of Gone with the Wind.

The end of this school year may very well be the end of my time in this district or even my teaching career. As time ticks on, and we still do not know, the reality of that is more sobering. Maybe I shouldn't dwell on dark thoughts, but today I entertained the thought of what it would be like to find out I lost my job.

How would it be to know that I am closing the door of the three years I spent at my first professional job learning to be a teacher? How would it feel when the future hung in the air in total uncertainty?

It would feel scary and sad. I would feel the sting of separation from people I really care about. It would feel like an ending, but a happy ending in as much as those exist. I've been encouraged and if I walk away at least I know now that my time spent here did some good.

If I had been rifed last year, I would not have walked away feeling that. I would have walked away with the words of my former principal in my head "those kids didn't deserve to be novice." Words that haunt me still. Words that said those kids would be better off if you were never a teacher.

If I left last year, I would never have had a reason to come back. I've been encouraged this year, though. I thought I would never stop wondering if it would be better if I wasn't a teacher, but now I think that if they rif third year teachers this year then some kids will miss out on having a pretty good teacher who cares about them and wants to keep getting better.

Misery Loves Company

Is it wrong that I felt better today when my friend from BFF team (the other non-tenure teacher on our team) told me that she feels like she is getting an ulcer from thinking about the rif threat hanging over our heads? It's not that I want anyone else to be in the same bad boat with me. It is just good to have a friend going through the same thing.

We saw a "help wanted" sign in Taco Bell on our way to graduate class today. "I call drive through when we work there next year," she said.

"I probably have janitor duty because Principal Sadie will most likely end up our manager," I thought. My life always seem to have a very funny irony.

Leave Your Worries on the Doorstep

We've been talking about Christopher Columbus during Social Studies and Writing. Christopher Columbus was by no means perfect, but he did have passion for what he did and he had the guts to do a lot. "People thought that Christopher Columbus had his thinking all backwards. 'Why,' they wanted to know, 'would you think sailing West is the quickest route to the East?' His thinking, though, led to the discovery of North America," I told the kids. It is a good lesson about continuing to try when things look bad, when your goal is worth it. It's a good lesson for the kids and for me.

So much is going right in my classroom this year. I have all of my students back in my room again. We work hard together every day. I really will miss these kids.

I find myself being really dragged down by the obstacles, though. I've got financial uncertainties in my head. What will happen if I don't have a job for next year? I've got politics in my brain.

The reality is that doing a good job isn't enough to save my job. The goal, of course, is to have these kids learn. When I am focused on that everything seems right.

Being a teacher is kind of like being the captain of a ship. Like Columbus, I want my crew to reach shore and complete their mission. I feel like my ship will make it safely to shore, but will it ever see the sea again?

What Would You Think If You Found This E-mail in your Inbox?

Dear District Teachers,

Many of you have been worrying your pretty little heads by watching that silly program called the news. Please ignore whatever the talking box is saying. "The News" has reported that our state has no money and will continue to cut at the education budget. Many of you are starting to talk about what this will mean for our district. Please do not talk about this because that kind of talk is evil. Besides, only the people upstairs can decide who loses their job and that is a secret right now. You can talk about it when we decide to tell you, but until then don't worry about it, don't talk about, pretend that everything is going well and we are expanding! This unsolicited advice is for your own good.

Sincerely, The District Bigwig

Yes, I may have paraphrased the e-mail slightly (for effect). The message is the same, though.

I seem to remember getting an e-mail like this from The District Bigwig last year right before they announced the RIF of all first year teachers. See my posts below.

http://chronicleofayoungteacher.blogspot.com/2009/04/subsistn-rifn.html

Might Be a Long Week for Me

The other day the teacher across the hall from me had her formal observation. We are always joking around and she thought it would be funny to try to scare me send me an e-mail telling me the new principal is really difficult and that she was almost in tears when he left. It worked. I was really really scared.

I have my formal observation on Tuesday. It is going to be really difficult for me to do well because I will be really nervous.

The funny thing is that I am starting to wonder if any of this really matters anyway. We just got another message from the superintendent warning about the severe budget cuts. I, and all second through third year teachers, may not even be teaching next year.

All these plans that I make go nowhere. I determine a course, but the Lord determines my footsteps.