LJ Idol Week 10: “If you have come here to help me, you are wasting our time”
The dashboard in my car has so many lights flashing that it looks like a Christmas tree. And my gas tank is always running on E. I clunk, clink, and clank my way to work where I teach to my full capacity in a classroom filled past capacity. My kids come to me struggling to read, write, add, and subtract, barely surviving in a system that is well beyond cracked. We've been out of pencils, papers, and erasers since January and unfortunately whether it's the first or the last of the month payday is always too far away.
That’s the North Carolina way.
Year after year teachers here are stabbed in the gut as our funding gets cut. We’re being asked to build a mansion from a hut with I don’t know what. Simply put, our legislators don’t value educators. Our teacher pay is the lowest of the nation, over ten thousand less than the median leaving us in financial frustration.
Luckily we have the education lottery. That’s what they say. Pay for a ticket and you’ve done your good deed for the day. All this foolery flutters across my TV’s display in the form of commercials that leave me in dismay. I watch the fake teachers and students filling with glee as they all get just what they need while the actors proudly proclaim “we did this!” Clearly reality has been dismissed and quite honestly I’m feeling pissed. I mean, it’s cool, play the lottery if you’d like but if you think you’re truly helping education, you’re more twisted than a bread tie.
That’s the North Carolina way.
Year after year teachers here are stabbed in the gut as our funding gets cut. We’re being asked to build a mansion from a hut with I don’t know what. Simply put, our legislators don’t value educators. Our teacher pay is the lowest of the nation, over ten thousand less than the median leaving us in financial frustration.
Luckily we have the education lottery. That’s what they say. Pay for a ticket and you’ve done your good deed for the day. All this foolery flutters across my TV’s display in the form of commercials that leave me in dismay. I watch the fake teachers and students filling with glee as they all get just what they need while the actors proudly proclaim “we did this!” Clearly reality has been dismissed and quite honestly I’m feeling pissed. I mean, it’s cool, play the lottery if you’d like but if you think you’re truly helping education, you’re more twisted than a bread tie.