A Year in the Life of A High School Teacher
russmc
Posts: 91
My best friend just posted this on his Myspace page, and I wanted to share with you guys. He's a High School History teacher, and has been with the same school for 7 years. Its hard just getting a teacher to last one or two years without getting frustrated.
A Year in the Life of A High School Teacher
***This is a rough draft. Its not grammatically or structurally perfect. That will come later. This is, however, my confession of what its like to be a high school teacher.***
It's almost the end of the school year, and all of the big tests have been taken. The kids are ready for summer, and they have no idea how ready their teachers are for the same thing. For nine months I've been dealing with slack students, overbearing parents, seven layers of administrivia, and an unending deluge of assignments to create, edit, teach, grade, record, and explain to students and parents who still don't comprehend why they got the grade they did. Grading is a soul crushing exercise in near futility. A good teacher can figure out what a student's year end grade will be by the end of the first quarter, the rest is just proving the point. Still, the assignment has to have some intrinsic value to the student, other than its own academic merit, and so I grade.
While grading is torture, especially essays, it is not the most difficult aspect of being a teacher. There is the emotional and spiritual collateral damage I'm constantly being struck with. The school year forced me to endure tragedies and difficulties not of my own making, and so it was typical as a year in the life of a high school teacher.
This year a former student who was in the Marines died. He was training and fell on a grenade so it wouldn't kill his squadmates. Mark was a man I am proud to have taught. I went to his funeral, and when I offered my condolences to his mother she wept, "I remember your name, he talked of you often." Apparently he didn't talk much about his other teachers.
A father of one of my students died suddenly of cancer this year. This student looked up to his father, wanted to be just like his father, is determined to be a naval pilot just like his father. I met his father barely a month before he passed, he was planning on sending his son to Europe with me this summer. John is a man I'm proud to have taught.
Another of my students has a sister in school that is going through leukemia. His grades have suffered but I don't think any less of him. I let him know we are dealing with cancer in my own family, and understand what he's going through. He's remained strong in school, but I know it's just a shield he wears.
Another of my students has a very sick mother, and the father isn't in the picture, so she's been the head of the house. She does the chores, buys the groceries with the money she makes from her job, she gets her younger siblings ready for school in the morning. Her grades have suffered but I don't think any less of her.
I have another student who was raised by his grandmother, lose his grandmother. He was out of school for a week and then came back, still torn up. He wants to be a poet, and his poetry is even better for his suffering. I'm amazed a young African-American, in a school where the 'thug life' is the dominant popular culture of his group, wants to be a poet.
There is a student in one of my classes that is expecting her first baby this year. I usually teach several teenage mothers a year. I hope that ten minutes of fun was worth it, because that baby is more important than all the parties you want to go to, but never will now. Remember that when you want to blame the child because you can't go out and have fun, that baby didn't ask to be brought into the world. You better love your baby, because like it or not, that baby already loves you.
I just learned one of my students died this weekend in a car accident. He was a good kid, always happy go lucky, well liked in school, did well in his classes, but was shy about his intelligence. He preferred to be the cool kid rather than the smart kid, but I knew his smarts would get him places where 'cool' is not a factor. I wasn't really worried about his future until I got the call. After I got the call I held my three year old daughter and cried. God, what his parents must be going through! Inshallah, you will find your way to that better place.
I've taught doctors and I've taught murderers. I have a former student in his final pre-med year. He's determined to work for Doctors Without Borders, because its the right thing to do. Jared is a man I'm proud to have taught. I have another former student who robbed a Popeye's Chicken restaurant. The manager was covering for the usual one, and didn't know the safe combination. My ex-student shot him in the chest for the till money. He was convicted of murder this year. I hope that $12 was worth life in prison, 'Piggy'. As tough as you think you are, you're not as tough as the 300 pound barbarian who will be calling you 'Mary' very soon.
And then there was the personal crisis. My wife was VERY sick for about 3 months. While dealing with the slings and arrows of teaching, I also had to be super husband, super dad, super house cleaner, super everything. For those three months, on most days I sat down to breathe around 11pm, having started the day at 5:15am. Along with causing serious inner-turmoil, it affected my ability to grade. GASP! I had two parent conferences in which I was harangued for not making their child's grade my absolute very top priority. I took it on the chin.
I've got news for parents that think a teacher's primary responsibility is grading their child's work. I have a family. My primary responsibility is the health of my wife and daughter, and myself from time to time. I have tenure, deal with it.
I'm not JUST a teacher. I'm a security guard. I've broken up many fights, and de-escalated countless near fights, this year alone. I wade right into them when I know I have back-up. It's the only way to put a stop to the stupidity. My mother asked me recently if I was shocked by that footage of the preppy girls ganging up and beating down one girl, just so they could post it on the internet. She was shocked that I wasn't shocked, but I see it happen all time. Girl fights are actually much worse than boy fights. They scratch and pull out hair, it can get messy.
A month or so ago, I was leaving school around 4:15pm, my usual time. School gets out at 2pm, and by 2:15 the 150 adults that are here during the school day drops down to about 10 of us. Out of these 10, 1 is a security guard and 1 is an administrator, the rest of us are teachers trying to get their work done so we don't have to do it at home. Then there are the coaches out on the fields with their teams. As the year progressed, the 'thug' kids slowly realized if they stay after school there's virtually no one around to tell them what to do. The halls after school were becoming worse than the halls between classes. Many afternoons, instead of grading or planning, I served as the unofficial security guard for the locker bay.
So, I'm heading out the front door when this crowd of 50 students starts running for the locker bay, shouting "Fight! Fight!" Through the throng of surging kids I saw at least half a dozen kids going at it, a riot or something. I looked to the main office, the doors were shut and locked. I went outside to tell the security guard, but there was little one grandmotherly woman could do to break up a riot. I had already had a long, trying day. I was late to pick up my girl from daycare. I wasn't going to wade into a riot by myself. I'm a history teacher intimately acquainted with the outcome of Custer's Last Stand.
I went home and fumed and fumed. The next morning, the first thing I did was send an e-mail to every administrator and the head of security about the profound lack of security after school, the hooliganism that was going on, and what I and others had been doing to prevent it. I then warned something terrible was going to happen if something wasn't done, and then offered a few ideas on how to fix the problem. Most of them were established policy that weren't currently being followed. Ouch. I warned them when something happened, and a parent asked "Where were the adults?"; the administration would be hard pressed to answer.
It turned out the idiots after-school ganged up on one kid and beat him up pretty bad. Something terrible had happened. Several of the administrators were upset at me for pointing out the truth in an e-mail. I 'hurt their feelings' in a legal document, I 'accused them of not doing there jobs.' I did, but if I wanted to hurt their careers I wouldn't have sent it to them. I would have sent it to the county administration.
They wanted to know why I hadn't done anything when I saw the fight break out. I told them I had looked for the administrator, informed the security guard, and wasn't interested in martyring myself like Custer. They continued to blame the messenger for the message. Fortunately, for me, I had not hurt the principal's feelings. A godsend, he is objective and open to valid critiques.
Security after school has changed profoundly, but now I have several administrators who give me the evil eye or won't talk to me. Heaven forbid if I might need them to discipline a child in the next couple of years. Oh well, some people don't like me because I've forced them to do their job. I'm not in this to make friends anymore.
After all, I have tenure and I believe in my school.
I'm a supply store for students who apparently can't remember that bringing paper and a pencil to school is kind of important. I'm a customer for products that will help out the team or club. I'm a club sponsor, a tutor, a substitute, a remediator, a negotiator, a proctor, a guidance counselor, a mentor (to teachers and students), a cluster leader (for US history), a low level bureaucrat (so many forms to fill out), a disciplinarian (when the assistant principal doesn't do his job), a social worker, and a psychologist. I've even been called a father-figure by some students who didn't have one at home.
I'm good at most of it and my father thinks I could become a principal. I didn't get into teaching for any of that. When I think of 'moving up' my career, I don't think administrator. I think professor. So why do I teach? Because I'm not afraid of a challenge. Because money is not the primary motivation in my life. Because, when kids aren't being dull or cruel, they are the funniest, most innovative, and creative force on earth. Because I love to see inspiration in a kid's eye. Because motivating a kid to try harder, to do better, to be something, to stand for something, to believe in something, to be outraged by something, to want to change something; that is a reward all its own. Because I get paid to do something I love, yet on a really good day I wonder, 'they really pay me to do this?'
I love history. I love researching history, learning new things about the past, sharing this knowledge with others, and forcing them to think about the world in a different context than they're used to. Most of my student's understanding of history is based on video games and movies, when they have any understanding of it at all. So, teaching kids what actually happened in the past is a different context for them. Showing them that what happened in the past actually affects the present is a different context for them. Still, every year there are about ten out of a hundred kids that are genuinely interested in history. I love these kids more than they will ever know.
I used to think W.E.B DuBois' concept of the 'Talented Tenth', the idea that 10% of the population actually leads and holds together the other 90%, was complete and utter elitist claptrap. Now I know the 'Talented Tenth' is completely and utterly accurate. That doesn't mean 90% of the population are idiots or useless; the primary problem is motivation, or to be more specific, the intense lack thereof. Rome had bread and circus to distract the people, to keep them content but not questioning. We have fast food and 24/7 entertainment: video games, movies, shopping, instant messaging, you name it. It serves the same purpose.
A Year in the Life of A High School Teacher
***This is a rough draft. Its not grammatically or structurally perfect. That will come later. This is, however, my confession of what its like to be a high school teacher.***
It's almost the end of the school year, and all of the big tests have been taken. The kids are ready for summer, and they have no idea how ready their teachers are for the same thing. For nine months I've been dealing with slack students, overbearing parents, seven layers of administrivia, and an unending deluge of assignments to create, edit, teach, grade, record, and explain to students and parents who still don't comprehend why they got the grade they did. Grading is a soul crushing exercise in near futility. A good teacher can figure out what a student's year end grade will be by the end of the first quarter, the rest is just proving the point. Still, the assignment has to have some intrinsic value to the student, other than its own academic merit, and so I grade.
While grading is torture, especially essays, it is not the most difficult aspect of being a teacher. There is the emotional and spiritual collateral damage I'm constantly being struck with. The school year forced me to endure tragedies and difficulties not of my own making, and so it was typical as a year in the life of a high school teacher.
This year a former student who was in the Marines died. He was training and fell on a grenade so it wouldn't kill his squadmates. Mark was a man I am proud to have taught. I went to his funeral, and when I offered my condolences to his mother she wept, "I remember your name, he talked of you often." Apparently he didn't talk much about his other teachers.
A father of one of my students died suddenly of cancer this year. This student looked up to his father, wanted to be just like his father, is determined to be a naval pilot just like his father. I met his father barely a month before he passed, he was planning on sending his son to Europe with me this summer. John is a man I'm proud to have taught.
Another of my students has a sister in school that is going through leukemia. His grades have suffered but I don't think any less of him. I let him know we are dealing with cancer in my own family, and understand what he's going through. He's remained strong in school, but I know it's just a shield he wears.
Another of my students has a very sick mother, and the father isn't in the picture, so she's been the head of the house. She does the chores, buys the groceries with the money she makes from her job, she gets her younger siblings ready for school in the morning. Her grades have suffered but I don't think any less of her.
I have another student who was raised by his grandmother, lose his grandmother. He was out of school for a week and then came back, still torn up. He wants to be a poet, and his poetry is even better for his suffering. I'm amazed a young African-American, in a school where the 'thug life' is the dominant popular culture of his group, wants to be a poet.
There is a student in one of my classes that is expecting her first baby this year. I usually teach several teenage mothers a year. I hope that ten minutes of fun was worth it, because that baby is more important than all the parties you want to go to, but never will now. Remember that when you want to blame the child because you can't go out and have fun, that baby didn't ask to be brought into the world. You better love your baby, because like it or not, that baby already loves you.
I just learned one of my students died this weekend in a car accident. He was a good kid, always happy go lucky, well liked in school, did well in his classes, but was shy about his intelligence. He preferred to be the cool kid rather than the smart kid, but I knew his smarts would get him places where 'cool' is not a factor. I wasn't really worried about his future until I got the call. After I got the call I held my three year old daughter and cried. God, what his parents must be going through! Inshallah, you will find your way to that better place.
I've taught doctors and I've taught murderers. I have a former student in his final pre-med year. He's determined to work for Doctors Without Borders, because its the right thing to do. Jared is a man I'm proud to have taught. I have another former student who robbed a Popeye's Chicken restaurant. The manager was covering for the usual one, and didn't know the safe combination. My ex-student shot him in the chest for the till money. He was convicted of murder this year. I hope that $12 was worth life in prison, 'Piggy'. As tough as you think you are, you're not as tough as the 300 pound barbarian who will be calling you 'Mary' very soon.
And then there was the personal crisis. My wife was VERY sick for about 3 months. While dealing with the slings and arrows of teaching, I also had to be super husband, super dad, super house cleaner, super everything. For those three months, on most days I sat down to breathe around 11pm, having started the day at 5:15am. Along with causing serious inner-turmoil, it affected my ability to grade. GASP! I had two parent conferences in which I was harangued for not making their child's grade my absolute very top priority. I took it on the chin.
I've got news for parents that think a teacher's primary responsibility is grading their child's work. I have a family. My primary responsibility is the health of my wife and daughter, and myself from time to time. I have tenure, deal with it.
I'm not JUST a teacher. I'm a security guard. I've broken up many fights, and de-escalated countless near fights, this year alone. I wade right into them when I know I have back-up. It's the only way to put a stop to the stupidity. My mother asked me recently if I was shocked by that footage of the preppy girls ganging up and beating down one girl, just so they could post it on the internet. She was shocked that I wasn't shocked, but I see it happen all time. Girl fights are actually much worse than boy fights. They scratch and pull out hair, it can get messy.
A month or so ago, I was leaving school around 4:15pm, my usual time. School gets out at 2pm, and by 2:15 the 150 adults that are here during the school day drops down to about 10 of us. Out of these 10, 1 is a security guard and 1 is an administrator, the rest of us are teachers trying to get their work done so we don't have to do it at home. Then there are the coaches out on the fields with their teams. As the year progressed, the 'thug' kids slowly realized if they stay after school there's virtually no one around to tell them what to do. The halls after school were becoming worse than the halls between classes. Many afternoons, instead of grading or planning, I served as the unofficial security guard for the locker bay.
So, I'm heading out the front door when this crowd of 50 students starts running for the locker bay, shouting "Fight! Fight!" Through the throng of surging kids I saw at least half a dozen kids going at it, a riot or something. I looked to the main office, the doors were shut and locked. I went outside to tell the security guard, but there was little one grandmotherly woman could do to break up a riot. I had already had a long, trying day. I was late to pick up my girl from daycare. I wasn't going to wade into a riot by myself. I'm a history teacher intimately acquainted with the outcome of Custer's Last Stand.
I went home and fumed and fumed. The next morning, the first thing I did was send an e-mail to every administrator and the head of security about the profound lack of security after school, the hooliganism that was going on, and what I and others had been doing to prevent it. I then warned something terrible was going to happen if something wasn't done, and then offered a few ideas on how to fix the problem. Most of them were established policy that weren't currently being followed. Ouch. I warned them when something happened, and a parent asked "Where were the adults?"; the administration would be hard pressed to answer.
It turned out the idiots after-school ganged up on one kid and beat him up pretty bad. Something terrible had happened. Several of the administrators were upset at me for pointing out the truth in an e-mail. I 'hurt their feelings' in a legal document, I 'accused them of not doing there jobs.' I did, but if I wanted to hurt their careers I wouldn't have sent it to them. I would have sent it to the county administration.
They wanted to know why I hadn't done anything when I saw the fight break out. I told them I had looked for the administrator, informed the security guard, and wasn't interested in martyring myself like Custer. They continued to blame the messenger for the message. Fortunately, for me, I had not hurt the principal's feelings. A godsend, he is objective and open to valid critiques.
Security after school has changed profoundly, but now I have several administrators who give me the evil eye or won't talk to me. Heaven forbid if I might need them to discipline a child in the next couple of years. Oh well, some people don't like me because I've forced them to do their job. I'm not in this to make friends anymore.
After all, I have tenure and I believe in my school.
I'm a supply store for students who apparently can't remember that bringing paper and a pencil to school is kind of important. I'm a customer for products that will help out the team or club. I'm a club sponsor, a tutor, a substitute, a remediator, a negotiator, a proctor, a guidance counselor, a mentor (to teachers and students), a cluster leader (for US history), a low level bureaucrat (so many forms to fill out), a disciplinarian (when the assistant principal doesn't do his job), a social worker, and a psychologist. I've even been called a father-figure by some students who didn't have one at home.
I'm good at most of it and my father thinks I could become a principal. I didn't get into teaching for any of that. When I think of 'moving up' my career, I don't think administrator. I think professor. So why do I teach? Because I'm not afraid of a challenge. Because money is not the primary motivation in my life. Because, when kids aren't being dull or cruel, they are the funniest, most innovative, and creative force on earth. Because I love to see inspiration in a kid's eye. Because motivating a kid to try harder, to do better, to be something, to stand for something, to believe in something, to be outraged by something, to want to change something; that is a reward all its own. Because I get paid to do something I love, yet on a really good day I wonder, 'they really pay me to do this?'
I love history. I love researching history, learning new things about the past, sharing this knowledge with others, and forcing them to think about the world in a different context than they're used to. Most of my student's understanding of history is based on video games and movies, when they have any understanding of it at all. So, teaching kids what actually happened in the past is a different context for them. Showing them that what happened in the past actually affects the present is a different context for them. Still, every year there are about ten out of a hundred kids that are genuinely interested in history. I love these kids more than they will ever know.
I used to think W.E.B DuBois' concept of the 'Talented Tenth', the idea that 10% of the population actually leads and holds together the other 90%, was complete and utter elitist claptrap. Now I know the 'Talented Tenth' is completely and utterly accurate. That doesn't mean 90% of the population are idiots or useless; the primary problem is motivation, or to be more specific, the intense lack thereof. Rome had bread and circus to distract the people, to keep them content but not questioning. We have fast food and 24/7 entertainment: video games, movies, shopping, instant messaging, you name it. It serves the same purpose.
Surreal Art that Entices the Mind
http://www.russmcintosh.com
http://www.russmcintosh.com
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Maybe if my county didn't take the point of view that all students should go to college, and therefore anything that doesn't prepare them for college is a waste of money; maybe if my county recognized that not all students want to go to college, we could prepare them for the real world. Because we have, by and large, given up on vocational education at the high school level, the vast majority of my average students are destined to work in jobs that involve them asking questions like, "Would you like fries with that?"
We complain about how shoddy vocational services are these days, while we refuse to offer vocational education to kids. We refuse to teach them its okay to be interested in carpentry, mechanics, and electrical engineering. A master plumber makes more than I do in a year, and I have a graduate degree. I'm not complaining about my salary (well, yes I am), but I'm really complaining about the fact that we don't even give students the option of considering vocational professions as a viable option to college or McDonald's.
And so, for some reason, kids lose interest in classes they know have no bearing whatsoever on their future. The standard student question in my classroom is, "Can I go to the bathroom?" It's usually asked at the exact moment I'm hoping one of the kids has become interested in the topic under discussion. My standard response to that question is, "I don't know, it's a difficult process, do you know how to use a toilet?" They roll their eyes. "Mr. Nolan," they whine, "may I go to the bathroom?" The question doesn't change nine months into the year. I still respond the same way, and they still roll their eyes before changing their request. Its part of what I call academic brinksmanship; the students are determined to lower the standards, I'm determined to keep them high, I win.
The standard parental question for my class is, "Why did my child fail these assignments?" It's usually asked at the exact moment when it occurs to the parent that their child won't be passing the quarter, semester, or year; very rarely is it asked shortly after the assignment has been posted on the internet for their private access. My standard responses to the questions are, "They didn't do the assignment," or, "they didn't get most of the questions right." Both of these answers usually come as a shock to the parent. "But my child said they were doing all the work," or "but my child doesn't get bad grades", or "well why didn't you tell me about this earlier" are the three most common parental responses to my answer.
I've been called a lot of things by a lot of people. My favorite was when an irate parent called me a 'Stalinist' because I wasn't teaching a conservative/Republican version of history. "You're Ivy league liberal education isn't going to fly here!" The parent berated me. "I went to the University of South Carolina," I responded. We went back and forth for over an hour. My conservative/Republican Assistant Principal defended me the entire time, because he knew the class required I teach history from a variety of viewpoints. "I have Pakistanis in my classroom, Africans in my classroom, El Salvadorans in my classroom," I tried explaining one world view wasn't going to work in a classroom full of very different kids for a course based on assessing different points of view.
The parent finally backed down when my Assistant Principal invited him into my classroom for a debate. He declined the offer, but demanded I send him the power point that 'blatantly misrepresented' the USA's geo-strategic position and policy for the world. This was back in 2002. "And don't change anything, my daughter will verify if it's what she saw." I promptly sent him my power point, which was fully referenced with primary sources originating from the Defense Department and direct presidential quotes. I never heard another word from that parent, but his daughter became one of my best students. Apparently very few people had ever stood up to her father and won an argument.
I've taken on raving mothers who've threatened me with violence. I've taken on an assistant to a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who thought a West Point ring and a JCS pin would impress me. I had a grandparent come to my house on a Sunday and demand I go to school and get her grandson an extra copy of his review packet, because he had forgotten his. After I explained I didn't have a key to open up the building, I added it's not my fault he forgot his homework. "Well isn't that your job?" NO, my job is not to remember things FOR students, especially not on Sunday.
I've taken on every kind of parent there is, and their kid's grades remain what they earned. I don't back down. Parents don't scare me. Some times this impresses their kids, sometimes it depresses them. Either way, I win.
I'm a good teacher for a variety of reasons. Officially, 95% of my students pass the state standardized tests every year. I teach advanced students, regular students, and special ed students. I teach students who can barely read, I teach students that refuse to put pencil to paper, and yes I teach students that can read and do their work as well. Before I was tenured, my contract for the next year was delivered the same day as my SOL results; no connection between the two though, really, none at all.
My kids pass that test because I know how to deliver the information to them, but also because the test is designed for them to pass it. They are the most fundamentally basic multiple choice questions one can ask about US history, and the kids only have to answer 51% of the questions right to pass. A 51% in my classroom is a giant, stinking F, by the way. The test is 63 questions long, and represents about 10% of the curriculum I'm required to teach. This year one of the questions involved the students determining why salsa has replaced ketchup as the most popular condiment in the USA. Now that's what I call important history, but at least No Child was Left Behind.
Officially, 75% of my students in AICE classes pass the advanced, college-credit worthy AICE tests. AICE is the British version of AP, only harder; and the program is global. I received a plastic award this year from my county, because my 75% pass rate exceeded the global average. This is a tough test, and I take great pride in my student's achievement. Not only do they have to master a lot of history, they have to master a writing style that is essentially un-American.
They have to discuss a variety of causes and effects of historical topics, as well as a variety of different points of view on the topic; and only then pass judgment, having fairly weighed all the evidence. This is very different from the standard American position paper, 'this is my point of view and I'm sticking to it, and nothing that might prove my point of view wrong will be discussed at all, because it is irrelevant, because it doesn't support my point of view, therefore its wrong.' It's a good thing I double majored in History and English as an undergrad.
I get official recognition for these achievements, but they aren't really why I know I'm a good teacher. I know I'm a good teacher when I get my entire class to laugh at something completely ludicrous that happened in the past; but has been removed from history textbooks because it might show that the past was as imperfect as the present, that our glorious leaders were merely human after all, or because it doesn't show the subject in the most flattering light. Yet, these nuggets of history enable my students to remember what they're 'supposed to.'
"Mr. Nolan, I know I'm really supposed to like Thomas Jefferson, but he was really two-faced." Yes, he was, and no you don't have to really like him if you don't want. My students remember the Kentucky Resolutions and the Embargo of 1807 because I teach them about Sally Hemmings; and how Jefferson was determined to follow the exact rules of the Constitution until Napoleon offered him the Louisiana Territory for a real deal, then the Constitution went out the window. They remember that a very old, President Andrew Jackson, with two bullets still in him from dueling, beat down a man with his hickory cane because the fellow tried to shoot him. By teaching my students that Andrew Jackson was a 'Magnificent Bastard' they remember the Indian Removal Act, the Bank Wars, and the Panic of 1837.
I know I'm a good teacher any time any student asks a thought provoking question, because it means I've captured their attention, expanded their perception, and unleashed their interest. Did I mention I love my 10% of kids that are genuinely interested in history? Their questions open up my entire class to discussions that wouldn't happen otherwise. I really know I'm a good teacher when I hear students still talking about what they learned in class as they leave the room.
I know I'm a good teacher when a student makes one-on-one time with me to share something intensely personal, because they feel they don't have anyone else to turn to. They trust me and value my opinion. I've been informed of serious family illnesses, of worries over which college to attend or what to study, questions about how take care of a baby, and whether or not I could join their band. My students are generally dumbfounded to discover I can play the drums and guitar, and played in rock bands for over ten years before becoming a teacher. "Why give that up, Mr. Nolan?" It was easy, a decent regular income and health insurance is useful.
My wife finds it hilarious that I give boys relationship advice. I was deathly afraid of girls until college, and am still apparently oblivious when women apparently flirt with me. Nonetheless, giving a girl flowers, even though it's not their birthday or a hallmark approved holiday, works every time. I learned this from my grandfather, who gave my grandmother flowers he picked off the side of the golf course whenever he went golfing. This knowledge is priceless for clueless boys. Never underestimate flower power. "Mr. Nolan, she said I love you. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't expecting that."
I know I'm a good teacher when current students walk out of the AICE test and are shocked that not only did they know the material, they were able to write 4 historical essays in under 3 hours. "You were right Mr. Nolan, the question really was about Manifest Destiny! I wrote and wrote and wrote, and when I was done I looked up and still had an hour left!" This from a student who thought writing 4 historical essays in 3 hours was all but impossible at the beginning of the school year.
I know I'm a good teacher when students ask me to sign their yearbook. I sign more yearbooks as a teacher than I ever did as a student. I know I'm a good teacher because kids I don't know walk into my room to read my Infamous List; it's a list of weird things I hear said in my room. Four of my favorites from this year are: "Is No Man's Land where everyone is safe?, What is the capital of Africa?, I've never thought of Japan as having a temperature before, and Why is there a toaster setting that burns toast?."
I know I'm a good teacher when ex-students come back or email me. They tell me I was right, college IS hard! They thank me for making my classes difficult, for actually making them read college level books. "Mr. Nolan, the professor asked if anyone knew what the word hegemonic means, and I was the only one that did!"
I know I'm a good teacher when ex-students who work around town give me a free coffee, or discount my purchase, or 'expedite' service for me. It's not like I can give them a free A anymore, not that I ever did anyway. I was at the movie theatre once and I swear I knew half the kids working there. They were all waving and saying hi, the lady in front of me at the concession stand turned and smiled at me, "It's like you're a local hero."
On a good day I feel that way too.
Once, I was in a 7-11 and a former student came up to me and said hi. He was wearing work overalls from the used car lot across the street, but he also had a textbook under his arm. "Mr. Nolan, I just want you to know you inspired me to become a teacher. You were there when I really needed someone to talk to, and I want to be there for little kids the way your were for me." Thank you Luis, you have no idea how rewarding those few words were to me. Luis Galarza is why I teach.
And then he bought me breakfast!
http://www.russmcintosh.com
However, right now I'm more concerned with addressing the death of my student to his classmates. I was going to see him twice on Monday, and most of the kids in my other classes knew him as well. Did I mention as a teacher I have to be a grief counselor? I will be a grief counselor all day on Monday. I will say good things about him, and then I will share funny stories about him; because that is what he would've wanted. He was a nerdy cool jokester. I will go to his funeral, I will offer my condolences to his family, and I will miss him.
I'm also wondering about next year. During Teacher Appreciation Week, the County Board of Supervisors decided to cut $20 million from the education budget. Ironic isn't it? Each school will have to cut $400,000 from their own budget to manage the shortfall. Schools spend most of their money on staff salaries, books, paper, and substitutes. Maybe I won't be getting those college level textbooks I ordered. Maybe my classes will be a little larger because of fewer new teachers. Maybe there will be even less paper for assignments. Maybe all three. Attempting to be optimistic, the superintendent announced class size will only increase by 0.5 students as a result of the budget shortfall. Ouch, I'd hate to be the kid cut in half to meet the average. As a teacher, I want the top half.
Overworked, underpaid, underappreciated, I'm looking forward to my summer vacation. I'm looking forward to two months of only having to be Cullen and Daddy, but not Mr. Nolan. Mr. Nolan takes a lot of crap from a lot of people; he works hard and sacrifices much. I deserve my summers off, they are a ceasefire in the endless war on ignorance that every teacher wages. It's my chance to clear my mind and soul of all the collateral damage I accrued over the last 10 months of teaching. I purge all the pettiness from my professional life, enabling me to suffer the slings and arrows for another year. Knowing that everyone else in the real world does not have this luxury, I value it all the more.
Once more into the breach my brothers, this time we might not come back. . . once more into the breach.
http://www.russmcintosh.com
Sounds as though Mr Nolan and Mr Shiels would have got along like a house on fire.
One good teacher is all it takes sometimes to make such a huge difference in a person's life.
Thanks for posting this russ.
*~You're IT Bert!~*
Hold on to the thread
The currents will shift
unlike most jobs we cannot return our products when they don't work, exchange them, throw them out, buy a new one, for that matter even choose them. We take any and all types, and have to make ALL of them function together.
Motivated/unmotivated, all races, all religions, full range for mental and physical abilities, gay/straight/bi, rich/poor...you name it we have to still teach them.
all their problems and deficiencies become our problems and deficiencies, we cannot ignore them, and yes we do take that home with us. Baggage is an understatement.
we don't get OT, but spend usually 10-20 hours a week beyond our scheduled time, quite often taking things home to do as well.
summers off is a myth- we are taking classes, teaching, taking on 2nd jobs, or a myriad of other things to both improve ourselves, and that we are required to do for recertification. If we didn't have that break of no students we'd all go nuts because of all the things we deal with every day. On a daily basis we can deal with, rape, abuse, racism, hate crimes, violence, harassment, domestic disputes, shitty parenting, with any number of our students, this doesn't even include all our own life BS we have to still cope with. Yeah those summers off....
yet despite all that, it is still the best job in the world
that said, the only thing that bothered me about this article was the way the author said that americans don't write about opposing views in their essays... that is such a broad generalization that is in no way fair; i have always been taught to discuss the opposing view in an essay, and i went to public school (both high school and college). other than that, i'm really glad this was posted. thank you very much!