EDUCATION - THE EXPLOITED CALLING
I’ve been a public school educator for 23 years. When I began, I bought the narrative
that there wasn’t enough. There wasn’t enough money to buy books, pencils, host fun activities, go on field trips, fund the arts…..
I transmuted that fact into a passion where I believed it was my duty to bridge the gap. I took on the role of educator and mentor. I create personal relationships with my students, we connect on deeper levels - and if I, an adult, know that a child is struggling or has an unmet need, and I decide consciously to ignore that need ~ well, then I’m part of the problem.
With that being said, I spent the first 10 years of my career making up for the lack in our school system with my own energy, my own personal money, my own time. I worked in lower socioeconomic areas. I also grew up in one. I know what it’s like to not have basic necessities.
When a student didn’t have money to buy a snack, I gave it to them. When their shoes didn’t fit I bought them new ones. When their parents or siblings pass away I bought them journals and gave them tokens of care and support.
When my student in foster care was moved from one group home to another, I replaced all of her makeup and toiletries that had been carelessly left behind.
I ground myself into dust trying to ensure my students retained their dignity. I burnt myself out worrying about others.
And then I woke up and realized - I can’t meet all of these needs. I actually don’t have the capacity to do it. I don’t have the financial means, and I don’t have the bandwidth to hold space for this many humans at once. There were certainly times where I prioritized the needs of my students or the requests of my administration before my own family and I definitely never put my needs first. They were last.
Because, how do you see a kid with shoes 2 sizes too small and decide to buy yourself a sushi dinner? I can sacrifice dinner for this student to experience humanity. I SHOULD do that. We all should. This child is a victim of a system in which they hold no agency. And their parents are working around the clock to make ends meet. If I can help, and choose not to, what does that say about me?
I can easily share that for at least a decade I accepted this fate. My husband and daughter were my immediate priority and purpose in life, but my yearly roster of 140-160 secondary students per year came next.
For years I shopped at all the sales, going store to store, making it my mission to find the best class rewards, to host parties for students who showed improvement, to make my classroom a space of inspiration and love. And then I ran out of steam.
My own parents became ill. My own child had more serious needs. My own marriage had normal ebbs and flows of life that needed attention. And on top of that I was drowning.
I had to stop. I had no choice.
I began taking mental health leave and focusing on filling my own cup. If your cup is empty you have nothing to pour into anyone else’s. It was time for radical self care in the most serious of ways.
This is when I woke up.
MANUFACTURED SCARCITY
When I lifted my head up from the trenches and looked around I saw many things that I hadn’t “clocked” before. I invested my second decade as a teacher investigating the intricacies of the system of education. I studied the fiscal parameters as well as educational policy implementation and deduced the reasons behind the lack.
There is no actual scarcity of money in education. Our federal and state governments along with the federal and local departments of education choose annually to grossly under-fund the programs, under- staff the schools, overcrowd the children and deny basic necessities.
It was a choice. Every time.
The school employees whip themselves into a frenzy pulling from their own personal resources to bridge gaps that will determine the future of the students who look to them for 180 days of a school year with hope. Imagine 30 pairs of eyes looking at you every hour to prepare them for a future of success. The pressure of this is extraordinary.
There comes a moment as an educator where you realize it’s you or them. Something has to give. Either you are going to continue to go above and beyond for every child OR you are going to prioritize yourself.
But what does that look like?
It looks like a failure.
Because I became a teacher to support my community and provide students and families with a hopeful view of their future. However, it’s not doable under these circumstances. I could spend another decade begging Donors Choose for new classroom sets of books, or setting up Go Fund Me accounts for families in need. I could go to every library sale and spend $50 of my own money to update my classroom library. I could go into work early and stay late to clean my classroom and decorate for every holiday.
But in the end I realized that being complicit in this charade makes me part of the problem.
REST AS RESISTANCE - A CALL TO ALL EDUCATORS
The only way to stop the madness is to refuse to participate.
Through refusing to engage we put the system on full display.
This year I’ve had no heat in the winter and no AC in the summer. I’ve worked in a dirty classroom and had mice eat through my lesson plans.
I’ve been told that there’s no money for new technology or furniture and that in order to “save” school site money I should take full days off of work instead of an hour here and there to attend to a necessary task. (Full days of absence are funded by the district while hourly work is funded through the school site) I’m still at a loss of how my appointments can so vitally impact the budget of our school.
I have no direct influence on my working conditions or, more importantly, student learning conditions. The underfunding of education extends greatly to infrastructure neglect that is patched in an as-needed fashion. Think of a prison.
I moved through the start of my career feeling guilty that I couldn’t do MORE. I felt personally responsible for creating a fulfilling and useful learning experience.
Overcrowded classrooms? Well, our budget was cut and I can’t just not grade essays. I’ll have to take them home. The kids deserve feedback.
But then the kids do well on state exams and that creates data that a class of 43 students in a middle school classroom DOES in fact still result in an increase in standardized test scores, which then provides ammunition for policy creators.
When you realize that overextending yourself not only perpetuates the facade that all is well but also creates false data to reinforce that claim, the conclusion becomes rest as resistance.
The only way to proceed is to serve with integrity, share the truth and accept the consequences.
I will always tell my parents the truth when asked.
I will always speak frankly and give my perspective on best practices when solicited.
I am a student and family advocate.
I will serve with integrity. But I will not create a false sense of success in my community by presenting a well-oiled machine.
The best case scenario would be an organized parental/ societal revolt, and for that to happen they need to see the truth.
Do your job. Hold on to your integrity. But be real.
THE TRUTH - THE PIPELINE
How does a capitalistic society sustain a robust lower class?
How does a for-profit prison system ensure continued growth?
How does a military industrial complex guarantee recruits?
A failed educational system creates a direct pipeline to all 3 of these options.
Therefore, the system isn’t failing. It’s working as intended.
And the teachers aren’t failing - they are the unwitting pawns in this weaponized plan.
As you watch the rivers of money flow throughout national systems what you notice isn’t a lack of current. What you see is that intentional dams have been placed.
This. Is. On. Purpose.
And this is the phase of an educator’s career when their spirit is crushed. And they realize that they are participating directly in the intentional harm of the communities they wished to serve.
“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both.”
Resign or Rebel
When we conclude we are not the gateways to a better life we thought we would be, but instead are the facilitators of the creation of the American underclass and future prison population.
It’s quite a blow.
May God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference.
Things I cannot change:
Parents influence educational policy. As they should. And until they know the truth they will remain complacent.
Courage to change the things I can:
Become very intentional with the time and resources I do have.
Set boundaries and say no.
Tell parents the truth.
Be willing to support through consulting and think tanks when new legislation is being created.
There is a growing number of educators starting movements.
One educator has started a “Silent Revolution” with a podcast. The irony is fantastic.
The teacher version of quiet quitting is refusing to cause harm and using our expertise to enhance and inspire. I will make decisions that are in the best interest of the students while protecting my health and prioritizing the creation of a transparent/ representative version of public school.