I have only got a moment for this- the kids will be up in a few- but I'll write with what I've got.
I'm home with the kids today because public schools are closed in a lot of North Carolina counties. The reason is that many teachers are up in Raleigh, rallying for respect.
I'm not there. Not marching, not even posting something on Instagram in solidarity. Because I am just too tired to do it. I am exactly the reason why those teachers are marching- a burnt out, heart-broken educator who isn't going back next year. They're rallying for pay that catches up to the national average, for better per-pupil spending, but mostly-- for respect.
I teach in a classroom with a hole in the ceiling. Leaky pipes caused the ceiling tiles to soak through and after one of the tiles caved in and fell during first period, they took all of the tiles down and now there's just a gaping hole. (by the grace of God, the student sitting under it wasn't at his seat at the time) When it rains, I come into a class with a little flood that extends from wall to wall. I call the front desk to try to get the custodial staff to come and clean it up. Sometimes they come. Sometimes they don't.
There's no air conditioner in my classroom. On Monday, the outside temperature was above 90. My poor administration is trying to work everyone into an air conditioned classroom when they are teaching, forcing teachers with AC to let other classes roam into them during their planning hours. On Tuesday, Grey had a high fever, and I really wanted to stay home with him- the only time I've thought of taking off to be with my sick child during this whole semester- but the logistical nightmare of trying to explain these classroom switches to a sub wasn't worth it. I gave up on my sub lesson plan after twenty-five minutes of trying to type things up. I called my mom. She came here. I went to work.
A few weeks ago, there was a fight in a classroom across from me. The teacher, a lovely woman from Barcelona and a fantastic, incredibly hard-working teacher, was having a hard time keeping her students in the classroom. They were all pouring out into the hallway to see the kids slam one another into the lockers. I bolted from my room at the sound of the commotion and tried to herd her students back into their room with my most commanding voice. They wouldn't listen, so I gently laid an open palm on their arms to move them back into the room- out of harm's way- trying to curb the chaos. One girl looked at me- she knew I was a teacher- she looked me in the eye and said- "Get your f-ing hands off me." I had to go back to my class and teach cell division. It was the fifth or sixth fight that had happened near me or involved one of my students, just in one semester.
I teach to rooms filled with 30 students who are more interested in their cell phone than anything I could ever say. Most cannot listen or pay attention beyond 10-15 minutes of instruction- if that. If I try to design a lesson that is fun, engaging- whether it's a lab that I have paid for out of my own pocket or something using technology- most are too lazy to read the instructions and actually engage in the activity. And those are my honors classes. My standard class has about six sleeping students everytime I try to talk for more than five minutes. Some of them can barely read, but I'm required to cram an over-stuffed biology curriculum down their throats at break-neck speed in time for state-testing in June.
I wake up at 5AM every day to design lessons and grade papers. And I come home so tired. Tired in my bones. Tired in my soul.
So, I'm not going back. I'm not bitter. But I am sad. I said to my mom today, "it feels like a death." I love teaching. I love science. I love kids. But I can't be crushed in spirit day after day and have the heart and soul reserves necessary for my own family.
So, I'm not going back. I'm going to stay home with my kids next year.
In saying this, I want to make it abundantly clear that I am in no way blaming the school I teach at. I have been INCREDIBLY blessed to work at Cape Fear High School. The administration has been nothing but fair, kind and considerate towards me. They are doing the best they can. And I work with a host of excellent educators. We are all tired. That's why we are marching. We're more than just tired- and we aren't just paranoid or greedy. There are SERIOUS problems going on in public education. I cannot even begin to address the probable solutions in one blog post. All I can say today is that I am proud of those teachers in Raleigh today. My heart is there too. THANK YOU for going on behalf of those who have lost their voice, lost their strength and their will to fight. God be with you.
