Reflections on a broken system

Actually, that post title is inaccurate.  The word system implies a group of elements that work together to form a united whole.  Since the "system" in question is public education, let's call this "Reflections on a broken institution."  Someday, when it's a little less broken we can call it a system again.

Semantics aside, I'm long overdue for a post and the simple reason is, I've been swamped with work.  When I left my previous job as a classroom teacher, my greatest fear about starting out as a private tutor was not having enough work.  I had subbing to fall back on in times of great need, but didn't see this as a very lucrative option; after all, if all teachers took the same number of days off a year that I usually did I wasn't sure how I'd end up with more than ten sub jobs for the entire year.*




Well, color me surprised.  I've been subbing an average of two days a week and I've picked up more private students than anticipated (though there's still room for more!).  I've had to continually turn down subbing jobs because I'm already committed.  By the time I sub, tutor, meet with new clients, and do a little bit of self-marketing and life maintenance, there's no time left in the day for blogging.  (I mean really..."blogging."  Who would do such a silly sounding thing anyway?) In doing the math, if things continue as they have, I'll be making as much or more money than I did last year when I worked "full-time" or more and was only paid part-time.

Okay, it's definitely not all books on the beach, but in comparison to my previous life...

This just doesn't seem right.  Don't get me wrong, it's great for me, right now.  I have less stress, less responsibility, I make my own work hours and can take whatever time off that I need or want to.  But shouldn't the Me that was working my butt off the previous two years be compensated better?  Who, in their right mind, would want to work as a public school teacher when their health, wealth and happiness is improved by not doing it?  Yes, it takes a passion and you don't do it for the money, but even by that standard you should have health and happiness.  I know too many teachers working with none of these things.

I do feel a disclaimer is required here.

• I was working part-time, teaching 2-3 classes, in a very small school.  This is the best way to get profoundly used and abused by the "institution." (Remember, we won't yet honor it with the title "system.") 
• Because of the small school, I, like all my colleagues, was expected to do more, because there were fewer of us throughout whom to divide the necessary work. 
• Being part time, I was either not offered benefits (teaching 2 classes) or not offered enough to make it worth the expense (3 classes).  Luckily, I have benefits through my husband and, technically, parents. 
• I was paid to work 24 hours a week, which I routinely put in before or by Wednesday.  I was then essentially left working the rest of the week for free or watching my hourly rate dwindle to something below minimum wage.
• I was dealing with health problems that flew face-first into professional people problems, only to explode into a volcano of fiery misery and near-death.

Mt. Fierymisery

In short, I had an especially crummy deal.  Being a full-time teacher in a slightly larger school usually works out a bit better.  But not a lot.  Many teachers will tell you sob stories of the woeful life that we lead while many will say, "Eh, it's not really that bad.  I enjoy my job for the most part and feel...somewhat reasonably compensated."  Some of it is perspective/attitude, some of it is personality and some of it is that location and the people you work with make a huge difference.  Just like the education of our students can't be simplified into a few numbers from a standardized test, neither can the job-satisfaction of our teachers.  In spite of this, there is a general consensus that some profound changes need to be made.

Now, the question we are all asking ourselves here is: Sarah, do you have a point?  Well, honestly, not 100%.  You'll note that the title was "Reflections..." not "Concrete Thesis..."  These are just some rambly bits of thought that have been floating around since I made my career change.  As I've told some of my colleagues that I used to work with, things are so much better for me that I have what I would almost call a case of survivor's guilt.  I can't help but think, "Why me? Why do I get to get out of that mess?"  I feel like I've betrayed my "family" in a way, not to mention all my students.  And I think that's a large part of what keeps this "institution" limping along.  Too many good-hearted, passionate people who, in spite of being the greatest martyr, or more likely because of it, won't walk away from something that they know is broken and abusing them mentally, emotionally and financially.

Ultimately, we feel stupid and used for being a part of the institution, but if we get out we feel guilty for not being team players.  This is, of course, grossly oversimplified and a huge generalization.  But I've seen it around enough to know it exists and it makes me sick.  So, ask yourself today, what can you do to make this institution work a little bit better?  For me, the answer was to stop being a martyr and get out.  However much it seemed a betrayal of everything I believed in, as the saying (is it a saying?) goes, you're no good to anyone if you're dead.


*There is an unfortunate "game" in teaching that I like to call "Martyrdom One-Upmanship."  Whether it's conscious or not, whether we like to admit it or not, there is, for many teachers, a need to prove that they are the greater martyr. They stay the latest, they work the hardest, they come to school the sickest, they missed the most personal events to be at the open houses, etc.  Some teachers I have known keep their noses above this and go about their job quite admirably while others catch the disease in a chronic way.  It's hard to avoid and I've definitely caught it a time or two.  Indeed, I could write an entire post just on that.

All of that is to say, I don't mean the previous (yeah, look way up there) statement to play into the aforementioned game.   As a part-timer who was pretty far down the totem pole, I didn't have to go to many trainings, I could be sick primarily on my days off and as a young person I had no kids who might wake up with a fever at 2am before I started the largest unit of the year.  Luckily, my husband is pretty well self-sufficient.  I am not the greatest martyr.  Just one more teacher in a broken institution.  (Thus ends the longest footnote that I believe I have ever written.  And I've written some big 'uns.)