A Day In the Life, Gripes

Even This Post Is A Contradiction. I think.

Sometimes it seems that teachers are some of the most hypocritical people on the planet.

“Please let him be absent today, PLEASE!”

“I cannot believe his parents took him out of school for such a mundane reason. Of all students, he most certainly should not be missing school.”

I imagine, at times, it must feel impossible to please a teacher.

“I absolutely cannot make it to any more meetings. I have too much to do.”

“I cannot believe I wasn’t invited to that meeting.”

It appears, that unless it was our idea, no matter the situation, we just cannot get on board.

“You absolutely cannot have my class for an extra rehearsal. I need the instructional time.”

“You absolutely cannot expect me to keep my class then. I need the planning time.”

I mean, even when we get what we asked for, we’re still not satisfied.

“Why can’t the administration take art and music more seriously like they do the other subjects? We’re just as important as other classroom teachers. We work just as hard. Why can’t we be treated the same?”

“Why can’t the administration just leave us alone? Art and music are so different than other subjects. They can’t put us in the same category. They can’t expect us to do the same things.”

To the outside world, teachers must appear to be the most contradictory people in the professional world.

“I cannot believe the district refuses to provide us with decent professional development during our contract hours. Don’t they know how hard it is to do that on my own?”

“I cannot believe the district expects us to attend this seminar. Don’t they know I have work to do in my classroom?”

I can almost see why so many people don’t get us.

“I cannot wait for the school year to start so I can get back into my classroom where I belong!”

“I cannot wait for the summer to get here so I can have a break from the classroom!”

It’s almost as if our working lives are filled with so much discord that we unknowingly slip into a state of contradiction whenever we talk about work.

“I love my job so much. Working with kids is so rewarding and important and noble. I know that I’m making a difference in my students’ lives.”

“I hate my job so much. I’m just a glorified babysitter. The kids don’t care, the parents don’t care, the administrators don’t care. It’s all about tests, tests, tests. I’m not making any kind of difference.”

Really, though, you would think, listening to teachers, that the field of education is filled with only the whiniest, most indecisive, laziest, most uncaring professionals out there.

“I spent three hours last night grading work, but I promised my students they’d get it back today, and they were really looking forward to it, so…”

“Yeah, I’m taking a course this summer, it’s kind of expensive, but I really think it’ll help me professionally,and I know I can use it in my classroom, so…”

“I really wanted to take it easy this weekend, but I had to set up for that art show, and the students were really excited about it, so…”

“I had to come in early this morning and meet with his parents, but I really think we’re turning a corner here, so…”

In conclusion, teachers are a bucket of contradictions, never happy with anything and ridiculously hard to please. Not to mention we don’t care about anything or anyone. So to all the teachers out there, don’t worry, there’s only about a month left of this waste of a school year, and then you can begin your summer vacation. Just one more month and then you can begin that second (third?) job, attend those seminars, take those grad courses and create those lesson plans, you lazy punks.
Thank goodness we don’t work year round, huh?
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In the Art Room

Lest You Get the Wrong Idea

Art teachers are great at advocating, not only for the arts, but for other art teachers as well. As we should be. There are many, many injustices happening to the arts in schools across the country. There are many, many stories of art teachers who have had their positions eliminated because of the lack of support for the arts. My story is not one of those.

A few weeks ago I wrote about my extreme disappointment when I found out that my position had been cut significantly for next year. The support from everyone here, and on Facebook, was awesome, and thank you for that. However, there seems to be a general impression that my job was reduced because of a lack of appreciation for the arts in schools. This was not the case, and I wanted to clear things up so as not to have my situation take away from those who really are unappreciated or under-appreciated.

So here’s the deal.

I work for a county that, compared to other places I’ve worked, greatly supports the arts in its schools. It has a very strong Fine Arts Department, provides relevant professional development, and  offers a variety of leadership opportunities to its numerous art teachers (200+ in elementary alone). I am very fortunate in that regard. The student enrollment in our county continues to grow by thousands every year. Unfortunately, within the boundaries of my particular school, the numbers are not growing, which means, fewer students, fewer classes, and understandably, less of a need for teachers, in all areas.

I’m not the only one who was affected. In fact, I’m not even the one who was affected the most. Three gen ed positions were cut. Three, full-time, general education positions. Special Education teachers and IAs were destaffed. One of our full-time PE teachers and one of our full-time music teachers each had their positions cut by a day. My position was cut by two days, reducing me to one day a week. Our other full-time specials teachers, in PE, music and art, were not affected and still have full-time positions. I think that’s important to note.

I work part-time. I work part-time by choice so I can spend extra days at home with my young daughter. Once upon a time I worked part-time because that’s all I could find for work. Now I work part-time because I feel it is important to have my daughter home with me a majority of the time. I understand and appreciate that this is a luxury, and I’m beyond grateful to be able to afford such a luxury. Someday I will go back to work full-time, and I’m confident that when that time comes, I’ll be able to find full-time work within my county. Like I said, I’m very fortunate.

I fully appreciate what I have. Every day. I’ve worked hard over the years. I’ve paid my dues, scrounging around for odd teaching and subbing jobs, venturing into other fields when those jobs weren’t available. I moved 12 hours away from my family and my rural home to a major metropolitan area for this opportunity. It hasn’t been easy.

I’ve been at my current job and school for four years. I love it here. When I heard I had been destaffed, I was crushed. I’ve formed bonds at my school, relationships. I’ve watched my students grow and change. Regardless of the details surrounding my situation, losing a job you love sucks. Leaving sucks.

I’ve had a rough time dealing with this news. It affected every waking moment of my life. I stopped showering regularly. I stopped getting dressed. I cried. All the time, I cried. I let it affect my teaching. I bailed on my lessons. I let my students make Mother’s Day cards. Mother’s Day cards. With sequins, which I fully believe to be on the glitter spectrum. I fell hard, folks. Hard. Then one day, I woke up and decided enough was enough. I was better than this. Ultimately, guys, I decided, I got this.

So don’t worry too much about me. Whatever comes my way, I’ve got this. I’m good. I’ll get through it. Thank you for your kind words and thoughts, and please, keep rallying for our comrades, keep fighting for the arts. There are many of us out there who aren’t so fortunate, and they need all the support they can get.

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Small Scraps

Overheard in the Art Room: Small Scraps

I can’t believe they said that…

“My friend just got back from a month in Egypt…”

 

“We’re supposed to go to Europe this summer…”

A-ha-ha-ha!…

“Who’s Adam Sandler?”

“An actor”

“He is? I thought he was a singer. You know, from American Idol.”

From the “Think before you speak” files…

“And do you know what this is called?”

“A loom”

“And how about this?” (pointing to the weft)

“I know it starts with a ‘w’… a womb!”

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Desperately Seeking Employment

Today’s Colors

My skirt was black and white.

My cheeks were red and flushed from grief.

My hands still had yellow paint on them from the afternoon’s classes.

My eyes were green with envy of the others present who weren’t affected.

My toenails were purple.

But most importantly, my heart was blue to learn that this would be my last year at the place I called home for the past four years because my position had been cut by 66%, and I can’t afford to stay.

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Dear Students, Funny, Ha-Ha, In the Art Room

[Knock, knock]

Oh hey, fifth graders. Why yes, please come in and interrupt the chaos that is 2nd grade art. It’s no big deal. It’s not like I’ve got anything going on in here, just trying to keep kids from painting each other and cooling the fires that erupt when ohmygod, he splashed water on my painting!!! So, what can I do for you? Glitter? You came here looking for glitter? Well, you may not know this, but I don’t normally carry the stuff, but you happen to be in luck because someone gifted me a box of miscellaneous craft supplies at the beginning of the school year, and there just so happens to be some glitter in there, so sure, you can have it. What’s it for? A class project? Neat, and when do you need it? Oh. You need it right now. Well then, no problem. Let me just turn my back on this group of angelic second graders so I can dig through my Closet of Crap and get that for you. Now where is it…? I know that box is in here somewhere. Funny story, I don’t usually use craft supplies in my room, but… oh! Here it is, under my stash of party supplies. Now I know there’s glitter in here somewhere… maybe under the package of straws… or behind the bag of Popsicle sticks… ooh! Here it is. No, wait, those are just mismatched googly eyes… how about… no, those are seed beads. Um… maybe… oh geez, how did these pompoms get loose? Here we go! Glitter! What? I’m sorry, you’re going to have to speak up. I can’t hear you over the sound of twenty-eight seven year old kids whooping and cheering as they splatter paint the walls and carpet. Excuse me? Oh, yeah, well no, I don’t think carpet in an art room make much sense either… what’s that? That’s not what you said? Ohhh. Yeah, no, now I see. You’re right, this isn’t glitter at all but sequins. Good catch. Well, can’t you just use them instead? Sequins are almost like glitter. No? Well, maybe you can try the Kindergarten classrooms then, they’re practically art rooms down there, and I’m sure they have glitter. Oh yeah, that’s fine, you can take the sequins with you just in case. Just one thing though, when you return them, can you make sure you do it during my adaptive art class? It would be great if you could pop in at the exact moment one of my students is trying to close his head in the flat file drawers, another is attempting to cut ALL THE PAPER, and a third is crying because she doesn’t want to do art today, m’kay?* Thanks, because that would be ever so convenient. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must be getting back to these second graders. I’m not sure, but I think I just saw a paint tray go out the window.

*I love my adaptive art students, and even on their worst days, I enjoy working with them. My second graders? Not so much.

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