Letter to Kerrilah
Dear Kerri,
Strange how being back in school and forced to listen to authority figures throws you back ten or fifteen years. I find myself sitting here, writing notes to you even though you're not here, even though it's been a long time since we sat next to one another in class.
Things in the job are kind of sucking, lately. It's not the kids, whom I have learned not just to handle, but genuinely enjoy. The 8th graders in particular are adorable messes of preteenaged hormones. They are funny, loyal, and wildly creative, not to mention far smarter than they know.
Sadly, it's the adults who cause the trouble. I was going to do dissection in class, and told the kids about it. One child took this home and their parents had a field day. Worse, my principal claimed to the parent - and to the vice-principal - that he had told me in unequivocal terms that he would not allow dissections in the classroom... when, in fact, he had told me he was 'leaning' towards no, and that he wanted some time to think about it. So could I come back tomorrow?
This actually is the third time my principal has lied about something I've said or something he's told me when a parent or member of the administration challenged a decision he made. I was SO furious. Then, I talked to Jess, and it turns out that her principal does the exact same thing.
The job of principal is a classic example of the nightmare that is middle-management. A principal is responsible for pleasing the local Board, the Superintendent, the parents, the teachers, the kids... perhaps in that order. It isn't a wonder that people in this position feel pressured to lie. The Board can fire them, after all, on the word of one irate parent alone. Still, while I understand the position of the principal of a public school, I can't condone the cowardice inherent in lying whenever that would be more expedient than telling the truth.
The parents overall are great. I teach in a close-knit community, so I can't help but know exactly what people think of me. I've gotten some notes from people, and some calls, all positive, as well as some positive comments from people via Mom - yes, of course, everyone knows she's my mother - once again, small town = small world. But the lack of support from the administration is a perpetual irritant, depressing and stupefying in terms of attempting to create change in the community and real interest in the kids.
The silent struggle is exhausting. I am very tired of fighting the parents, the kids, the administration, all while fighting FOR the kids, for their own betterment. Of course, this is a very old song to be singing. But it's new to me, at least at this level; it gets me where I live, now, that our education system needs so much work. I want to be on the front lines doing that work, but I'm not sure how to begin.
Mom - as you know - would tell me that I am already doing that work just by being here. But there's a place where you're working towards the betterment of an individual school, and a point at which you're aiding and abetting the downward spiral of the American education system by participating and saying nothing - by pretending, as several generations of teachers have, now, that This is How it Works. This is How We Do It, this is How We Have Done it. That 'Up the Down Staircase' is normal, natural, the regrettable state-of-things.
Is there any way we could make the education system apolitical? This is not rhetorical; I am thinking very fiercely and passionately on this matter.
Sweetheart, I miss you. I hope you're doing well. Did I tell you I ordered the dress? I'm still worried it'll slide right down, but I'll believe it'll work if you say so.
I'm sorry I haven't been in contact as much as I'd like, but 98% of my emotional energy is tied up in my work, just like always. Just ask anyone else we both know.
-J
Strange how being back in school and forced to listen to authority figures throws you back ten or fifteen years. I find myself sitting here, writing notes to you even though you're not here, even though it's been a long time since we sat next to one another in class.
Things in the job are kind of sucking, lately. It's not the kids, whom I have learned not just to handle, but genuinely enjoy. The 8th graders in particular are adorable messes of preteenaged hormones. They are funny, loyal, and wildly creative, not to mention far smarter than they know.
Sadly, it's the adults who cause the trouble. I was going to do dissection in class, and told the kids about it. One child took this home and their parents had a field day. Worse, my principal claimed to the parent - and to the vice-principal - that he had told me in unequivocal terms that he would not allow dissections in the classroom... when, in fact, he had told me he was 'leaning' towards no, and that he wanted some time to think about it. So could I come back tomorrow?
This actually is the third time my principal has lied about something I've said or something he's told me when a parent or member of the administration challenged a decision he made. I was SO furious. Then, I talked to Jess, and it turns out that her principal does the exact same thing.
The job of principal is a classic example of the nightmare that is middle-management. A principal is responsible for pleasing the local Board, the Superintendent, the parents, the teachers, the kids... perhaps in that order. It isn't a wonder that people in this position feel pressured to lie. The Board can fire them, after all, on the word of one irate parent alone. Still, while I understand the position of the principal of a public school, I can't condone the cowardice inherent in lying whenever that would be more expedient than telling the truth.
The parents overall are great. I teach in a close-knit community, so I can't help but know exactly what people think of me. I've gotten some notes from people, and some calls, all positive, as well as some positive comments from people via Mom - yes, of course, everyone knows she's my mother - once again, small town = small world. But the lack of support from the administration is a perpetual irritant, depressing and stupefying in terms of attempting to create change in the community and real interest in the kids.
The silent struggle is exhausting. I am very tired of fighting the parents, the kids, the administration, all while fighting FOR the kids, for their own betterment. Of course, this is a very old song to be singing. But it's new to me, at least at this level; it gets me where I live, now, that our education system needs so much work. I want to be on the front lines doing that work, but I'm not sure how to begin.
Mom - as you know - would tell me that I am already doing that work just by being here. But there's a place where you're working towards the betterment of an individual school, and a point at which you're aiding and abetting the downward spiral of the American education system by participating and saying nothing - by pretending, as several generations of teachers have, now, that This is How it Works. This is How We Do It, this is How We Have Done it. That 'Up the Down Staircase' is normal, natural, the regrettable state-of-things.
Is there any way we could make the education system apolitical? This is not rhetorical; I am thinking very fiercely and passionately on this matter.
Sweetheart, I miss you. I hope you're doing well. Did I tell you I ordered the dress? I'm still worried it'll slide right down, but I'll believe it'll work if you say so.
I'm sorry I haven't been in contact as much as I'd like, but 98% of my emotional energy is tied up in my work, just like always. Just ask anyone else we both know.
-J