I dunno. Maybe I'll send it to them.
Dear Dean of Secondary Education,
I am writing to you to express my condition and explain the consequences of your expultion of me from you Masters in Teaching program in May of 2008. Your decision was made out of a variety of pressures from the school district, and from a desire to make this embarrassment go away. But there are no actions without consequences, even for universities, and I am writing to make you aware of the ramifications of your decision.
To this day, I do not know if you have done me a favor or not, and I do not know if I was in the wrong, or if I was victimized by your department. My crime seems to have been disagreeing with you, and a misuse of school technology. Show me the piece of paper that I signed outlining the proper use of technology. You over-reacted to the statements I had made, without pausing to consider their context out of some idea of "protecting" the youth around me. I've talked with some of the students you were supposed to be protecting, and they were hurt and betrayed at my sudden dismissal, and had no opinion of what I had written. They thought the writing inconsequential, and were flattered to be included in my memoirs. Instead, I became another adult who ran out on them, another thing they weren't allowed to talk about at school. My dissapearance caused question and worry, not my writing.
It is curious that nobody stopped to consider whether or not other teachers at the school were using the computer for personal reasons. As I didn't have internet at home, I was left to do a lot of work at school. As an alternative high school, there were many periods of down time, with students reading. I learned at your institution that doing work with students builds self-efficacy and models good work ethic. Students were writing their autobiography, and were thrilled when I could share pieces of mine. Sharing myself gave me a window into their world, and showed these troubled kids that you can have a difficult life, like I had, and grown up OK. Hearing about my life gave them hope. I tried to model being a good adult, and made my insecurities more transparent, inviting the students to problem solve with me and work together. This I also learned from Woodring. In fact, the things I was accused of doing as wrong, I had learned from your own professors. Perhaps I implemented them in an experimental way that seemed uncalculated, but I assure you, during my internship, I was trying out the things your institution had taught me. It is the job of the Field Office to support and advise me while I develop my teaching persona during the internship. Or perhaps the internship is a time to prove yourself, and not a time for continued learning? That is not what I learned from you.
Your institution has utterly failed me. You talk a lot about No Child Left Behind and continued professional development, but don't treat your own pre-service teacher with the same care and consideration to their learning that you expect us to use on our future students. You treated me as someone who committed a grievous crime, not as a student who is learning. You were quick to abandon me despite the many years of study I put in, not the mention the amount of money I spent at your program. And just like the institutions you were trying to change, the moment I stepped out of line, and didn't fit in with your definition of what a teacher should be, you failed me. Where is the inclusiveness? Where is the acceptance? There are some in your department who felt I had no good to offer students and believed I should never be a teacher, but many more who recognized what I had to offer as a person, and as a teacher.
Well, the joke is on you. While you robbed me of my future livlihood, and left me with substantial student loan repayments for a field I can never have full access to, I became a teacher anyway. I work at a private alternative school, and substitute teach at some of the most prestigious private schools in the region. They felt that I had something to offer that a conventional teacher couldn't. I will still never make as much money as I would have in a public school setting, with my education. And with every sub job I take, I can say "Fuck you Woodring". You don't get to decide who gets to be a teacher. Even if at every interview I have to explain why I never finished my Masters degree, I still beat you. I may have failed out of the program, but I didn't forget the things I was taught, and I hope I make my professors proud as I find my way in life.
I was recently invited to California to deliver two papers at an academic conference on Contemporary Pagan Studies. I am returning to school to get a Masters in Divinity, with Professional Counseling certification. I took psych classes during the program, and realized I could teach much more than English literature to people. If I took nothing else from your program, I learned how to be more discreet. I learned about true confidentiality. I learned not to trust my care to an institution that has no feeling for those they teach, despite decrying the exact opposite at every lecturn. You can be sure that I tell my story far and wide. I offer my perspective to those who might be interested in your program. Those in my cohort know what happened and are appauled. Any one who knows me knows that I would never intentionally harm a student. If I had any legal recourse, I would take it, just to prove that you were wrong about me, and show you your own hipocracy: what you teach is not how you choose to act. Even in these hard economic times, I am surviving. But if you don't change your institution--if you do not act on the ideals you hold and perpetuate--Woodring will fail and you will all be out of work. Your decision has significantly altared the course of my life. For ten years, I worked towards becomeing a public school teacher, to have it ripped out from under me three months before it was finished. I doubt that it has had the same impact on you. Let my expusion be some lesson for you. Better prepare your students. Be honest about your expectations. Maybe even back your students when there is public pressure. Find the truth before you jump to conclusions. Work to create alternatives. No Child Left Behind.
No Love,
Jamie
I am writing to you to express my condition and explain the consequences of your expultion of me from you Masters in Teaching program in May of 2008. Your decision was made out of a variety of pressures from the school district, and from a desire to make this embarrassment go away. But there are no actions without consequences, even for universities, and I am writing to make you aware of the ramifications of your decision.
To this day, I do not know if you have done me a favor or not, and I do not know if I was in the wrong, or if I was victimized by your department. My crime seems to have been disagreeing with you, and a misuse of school technology. Show me the piece of paper that I signed outlining the proper use of technology. You over-reacted to the statements I had made, without pausing to consider their context out of some idea of "protecting" the youth around me. I've talked with some of the students you were supposed to be protecting, and they were hurt and betrayed at my sudden dismissal, and had no opinion of what I had written. They thought the writing inconsequential, and were flattered to be included in my memoirs. Instead, I became another adult who ran out on them, another thing they weren't allowed to talk about at school. My dissapearance caused question and worry, not my writing.
It is curious that nobody stopped to consider whether or not other teachers at the school were using the computer for personal reasons. As I didn't have internet at home, I was left to do a lot of work at school. As an alternative high school, there were many periods of down time, with students reading. I learned at your institution that doing work with students builds self-efficacy and models good work ethic. Students were writing their autobiography, and were thrilled when I could share pieces of mine. Sharing myself gave me a window into their world, and showed these troubled kids that you can have a difficult life, like I had, and grown up OK. Hearing about my life gave them hope. I tried to model being a good adult, and made my insecurities more transparent, inviting the students to problem solve with me and work together. This I also learned from Woodring. In fact, the things I was accused of doing as wrong, I had learned from your own professors. Perhaps I implemented them in an experimental way that seemed uncalculated, but I assure you, during my internship, I was trying out the things your institution had taught me. It is the job of the Field Office to support and advise me while I develop my teaching persona during the internship. Or perhaps the internship is a time to prove yourself, and not a time for continued learning? That is not what I learned from you.
Your institution has utterly failed me. You talk a lot about No Child Left Behind and continued professional development, but don't treat your own pre-service teacher with the same care and consideration to their learning that you expect us to use on our future students. You treated me as someone who committed a grievous crime, not as a student who is learning. You were quick to abandon me despite the many years of study I put in, not the mention the amount of money I spent at your program. And just like the institutions you were trying to change, the moment I stepped out of line, and didn't fit in with your definition of what a teacher should be, you failed me. Where is the inclusiveness? Where is the acceptance? There are some in your department who felt I had no good to offer students and believed I should never be a teacher, but many more who recognized what I had to offer as a person, and as a teacher.
Well, the joke is on you. While you robbed me of my future livlihood, and left me with substantial student loan repayments for a field I can never have full access to, I became a teacher anyway. I work at a private alternative school, and substitute teach at some of the most prestigious private schools in the region. They felt that I had something to offer that a conventional teacher couldn't. I will still never make as much money as I would have in a public school setting, with my education. And with every sub job I take, I can say "Fuck you Woodring". You don't get to decide who gets to be a teacher. Even if at every interview I have to explain why I never finished my Masters degree, I still beat you. I may have failed out of the program, but I didn't forget the things I was taught, and I hope I make my professors proud as I find my way in life.
I was recently invited to California to deliver two papers at an academic conference on Contemporary Pagan Studies. I am returning to school to get a Masters in Divinity, with Professional Counseling certification. I took psych classes during the program, and realized I could teach much more than English literature to people. If I took nothing else from your program, I learned how to be more discreet. I learned about true confidentiality. I learned not to trust my care to an institution that has no feeling for those they teach, despite decrying the exact opposite at every lecturn. You can be sure that I tell my story far and wide. I offer my perspective to those who might be interested in your program. Those in my cohort know what happened and are appauled. Any one who knows me knows that I would never intentionally harm a student. If I had any legal recourse, I would take it, just to prove that you were wrong about me, and show you your own hipocracy: what you teach is not how you choose to act. Even in these hard economic times, I am surviving. But if you don't change your institution--if you do not act on the ideals you hold and perpetuate--Woodring will fail and you will all be out of work. Your decision has significantly altared the course of my life. For ten years, I worked towards becomeing a public school teacher, to have it ripped out from under me three months before it was finished. I doubt that it has had the same impact on you. Let my expusion be some lesson for you. Better prepare your students. Be honest about your expectations. Maybe even back your students when there is public pressure. Find the truth before you jump to conclusions. Work to create alternatives. No Child Left Behind.
No Love,
Jamie