Job Application Blues
I've heard it said that when you're unemployed, your job is to apply for jobs. Well, that's what I did today, 8 to 5, with a break for lunch. And in all that time I only applied for two jobs.
Why? you may ask. Is she just not bright enough to figure out the applications?
First of all, stop thinking judgmental thoughts about my intelligence. And second, those applications are frustratingly long. I don't know if anyone's tried applying for a job in education recently, but let me tell you this: It's torture. It's like applying for college.
They don't just want your resume and your qualifications and maybe a few references. No; they want to know your philosophy of teaching, what made you want to go into teaching in the first place (subtext: you're not a perv, are you?), what you think about NCLB, whether Disneyland or Disney World is better, the diversity of classic Saturday morning cartoons, and your explication of Charles Darwin's On the Origin of Species. (I may have made some of those up).
After a while the questions just get exhausting. And I don't know how much to write. The instructions always say "fewer than 4000 words," but really, do they want to read 4000 words? Won't they just skim the first few sentences and move on? Or are they really excited to hear about my professional goals? Maybe if I only write 100 words they'll think I have nothing to say. Augh! It's driving me crazy! I'm afraid they won't give me an interview, but I just know if I can get the interview I can do well.
And while I'm on the subject: Who is "they" anyhow? Who looks at those applications to weed through them? Is it the principal? The department chair? Some underling hired to laugh at my particularly ludicrous essay responses? If I knew whom I was trying to impress it might be easier, but as it stands, I am just writing to that nebulous "they." Gah. One of the things you learn about composition theory is that consideration of audience is important--it drives the author and determines the content they produce. But when the author doesn't know the audience, the writing isn't as meaningful, to the writer or reader. Don't these districts know this? They should tell you upfront that you're trying to impress Shari, the Executive Assistant. Or Tom, Vice-Principal of Instruction. Or Melinda, English Teacher With Tons of Experience.
The other thing districts need to be upfront about? What the job is all about. Many of them don't give an accurate description of the job. They say things like, "Instructor is expected to be supportive of the teacher-parent relationship" or "Must have technology training."
Okay, that's great; but what does that mean? I don't know what to say in a cover letter other than, "Uh, hi. I teach English. Hire me?" when I can't speak to how my experience fits the job. Instead, I just blindly apply. If schools want better candidates, they should say, "This job will most likely include three periods of freshman English, two periods of Literature and the World, and one TBD elective." Okay, fine. That's something. I can tell you how I could teach those classes.
But "The primary purpose of this position is the instruction and supervision of assigned students" does not help me out, folks. I would say this is as helpful to tailoring my cover letter as spreading peanut butter on my face is to curing acne. Which means it's not.
Sigh. I will be very grateful for a job when I get one. The process is just mind-numbing and depressing. I think I'm a good teacher, but I don't know how to convey that in a job application.
Why? you may ask. Is she just not bright enough to figure out the applications?
First of all, stop thinking judgmental thoughts about my intelligence. And second, those applications are frustratingly long. I don't know if anyone's tried applying for a job in education recently, but let me tell you this: It's torture. It's like applying for college.
They don't just want your resume and your qualifications and maybe a few references. No; they want to know your philosophy of teaching, what made you want to go into teaching in the first place (subtext: you're not a perv, are you?), what you think about NCLB, whether Disneyland or Disney World is better, the diversity of classic Saturday morning cartoons, and your explication of Charles Darwin's On the Origin of Species. (I may have made some of those up).
After a while the questions just get exhausting. And I don't know how much to write. The instructions always say "fewer than 4000 words," but really, do they want to read 4000 words? Won't they just skim the first few sentences and move on? Or are they really excited to hear about my professional goals? Maybe if I only write 100 words they'll think I have nothing to say. Augh! It's driving me crazy! I'm afraid they won't give me an interview, but I just know if I can get the interview I can do well.
And while I'm on the subject: Who is "they" anyhow? Who looks at those applications to weed through them? Is it the principal? The department chair? Some underling hired to laugh at my particularly ludicrous essay responses? If I knew whom I was trying to impress it might be easier, but as it stands, I am just writing to that nebulous "they." Gah. One of the things you learn about composition theory is that consideration of audience is important--it drives the author and determines the content they produce. But when the author doesn't know the audience, the writing isn't as meaningful, to the writer or reader. Don't these districts know this? They should tell you upfront that you're trying to impress Shari, the Executive Assistant. Or Tom, Vice-Principal of Instruction. Or Melinda, English Teacher With Tons of Experience.
The other thing districts need to be upfront about? What the job is all about. Many of them don't give an accurate description of the job. They say things like, "Instructor is expected to be supportive of the teacher-parent relationship" or "Must have technology training."
Okay, that's great; but what does that mean? I don't know what to say in a cover letter other than, "Uh, hi. I teach English. Hire me?" when I can't speak to how my experience fits the job. Instead, I just blindly apply. If schools want better candidates, they should say, "This job will most likely include three periods of freshman English, two periods of Literature and the World, and one TBD elective." Okay, fine. That's something. I can tell you how I could teach those classes.
But "The primary purpose of this position is the instruction and supervision of assigned students" does not help me out, folks. I would say this is as helpful to tailoring my cover letter as spreading peanut butter on my face is to curing acne. Which means it's not.
Sigh. I will be very grateful for a job when I get one. The process is just mind-numbing and depressing. I think I'm a good teacher, but I don't know how to convey that in a job application.