I’ve always considered myself a “self-taught” art teacher. Yes, I put myself tens of thousands of dollars into debt to obtain the necessary degrees that were supposed to make me into an art teacher, but the reality of it is, my six years of schooling didn’t teach me anything about how to teach art. Everything I know, I know from personal experience.

As an undergrad, I attended a state school that had a 3:1 Art Education program with a private school. I completed all my gen. eds., my pre-requisites, my studio classes and the necessary basic education classes at the state school. I then took more advanced education classes at the private school where I also completed my student teaching. My studio classes taught me the basics of every art medium (at least the ones that would fit into my schedule), and the education courses taught me about the basics of teaching in a regular classroom. And by regular, I mean a classroom that doesn’t involve a plethora of dirty, messy, dangerous materials that are necessary for the development of creative minds.

I learned how to “work the room” while teaching, which entailed walking up and down the aisles of desks, to ensure that students were on-task. I learned how to maintain an orderly and controlled classroom that required students to always raise their hands and to always remain in their seats. I was instructed on how to identify when your English and Math students needed extra help and various ways to prepare students for a Social Studies test. While my college instructors were all capable and knowledgeable individuals, not one of them had the first inkling of how to teach in an art room. And why should they? These professors weren’t art teachers. They’d never experienced the chaos joys of teaching fourth graders how to paint. They knew how to manage a classroom in which the teacher’s main role was to transfer knowledge to students not mold and encourage creativity and independent work.

My student teaching experience, which occurred in two different art rooms, should have helped me more, and in some aspects it did, but in many, it was lacking. I learned from my K-6 mentor how to manage the classroom through a point system. While I’m not nearly as strict with my “rules” as she was, I still use the 5-point, Art Party system today. In fact, a few of my peers have even started using it in their classrooms. I learned how to write lesson plans that look good on paper, but as any art teacher can tell you, writing a lesson plan and following a lesson plan are two completely different things. One should rarely ever expect to be able to follow a unit or lesson plan to the letter. Too many circumstances arise within an art room to make it feasible. And in my opinion, that’s okay. Not once during my entire student teaching or undergraduate experience did anyone teach me how to teach an eighth grader how to draw the human figure.

My grad school experience was even worse. My Masters of Science in Education degree claims to be in in Visual Arts Education, but the reality of it is, teaching art rarely came up. In our studio classes we were practically forbidden to discuss teaching or how to teach our students the things we were learning. It was appalling to many of us that we were art teachers and yet no one would allow us to converse about how we could transfer what we were learning into our classrooms. The art education courses we took weren’t any better. We were expected to discuss the latest theories in art education and what to teach in our classrooms (the top choices being, but not by me, Multiculturalism, Differentiated Instruction and Cross-Curricular lessons), but were never instructed on how to teach these things. Let me rephrase that, we were never instructed on how to teach the basic art techniques needed to make art. You know, like observational drawing. Apparently we were expected to already know these things. And many of us did, but not because our prior educational experiences had prepared us for it, but because we had already been teaching for a few years.

So, fast forward to a few days ago when I’m in an interview and the interviewer asks me, “How would you teach an auditory learner to draw the human form?” Say what now? My mind went blank. I knew I couldn’t answer, “I don’t know” and have any chance at ever working in this school system. Instead, I pulled some ridiculously lame response out of the air. After wards, all I could think was, “I don’t know how to teach kids anything, I just do it.” When it comes to teaching kids how to make pinch pots or draw the face or use watercolor paints, I just consider the steps that need to take place and then just teach it. I can’t explain to someone how I teach it, but I know that my students learn it because they’re all, for the most part, successful at it. If I see a student struggling, I suggest alternative ways for them to do it or I alter the way I explain how to do it. But this isn’t anything I plan. I’m more of an on-the-spot type of teacher who looks at the immediate problem and comes up with a solution.

I can only anticipate problems up to a certain point because there’s always the human element to every problem. In other words, the student. Every problem you face in an art room is going to be different because the students are different. Don’t ask me how I would teach contour drawing to auditory learners. Ask me how I would teach contour drawing to Johnny, a fourth grade student who is struggling because he didn’t understand the demonstration I just did. I happen to know that Johnny is a race car fan. I’ll use this to explain to Johnny that an outline is like the track around an object. I’ll suggest to him that his pencil is a race car and ask him to draw the track that would take his race car around the object. Being an auditory or visual learner isn’t always an issue, because, in my experience, there’s always a way to explain how to do something that connects with the individual student. And that’s not something you’re necessarily going to learn in college. That’s a lesson you learn in the field when you’re on your own and actually teaching.

And in regards to that interview, did I get the job? Highly unlikely considering I was interviewing with a school system that didn’t have any available positions. Is there a possibility they’ll consider me for any future openings? I hope so. Of course, if their consideration of me as a suitable candidate is based solely on my fumbling responses to their generic questions, maybe not. Sometimes I wish the interview process involved actually teaching a lesson to real, live kids instead of answering a bunch of arbitrary questions about things I’m more capable of doing and showing rather than explaining. After all, I’m a visual and kinesthetic learner. It can safely be assumed that this is the type of teacher I am as well, therefore, couldn’t it also be assumed that a Q & A session isn’t the best way for me to demonstrate my abilities as a teacher? Apparently the concept of adapting to the multiple styles of learners doesn’t extend past the classroom. But that’s an issue for another day.

  
It’s no surprise that times are tough for teachers right now. Budget cuts are being made left and right, and you hear stories in the news all the time about cities laying off mass amounts of teachers. But what about the rural areas? How are teachers doing in the less than newsworthy parts of the country?

Well, unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like they’re faring any better. Of course, you probably won’t hear about that in the news. Reporting that a school district has laid of five teachers opposed to hundreds just isn’t as impressive sounding. But it’s still happening, and these teachers, regardless of where they live, are still feeling the pains of being laid off.

I grew up in the Northern Adirondacks in New York State. School districts up there are small, and quite often, K-12 is often contained in one building. Graduating classes average around 30 students. Were talking small schools here, folks, but just because the schools are smaller doesn’t mean that the teachers don’t value their jobs any less. My Alma Mater just went through some budget adjustments and laid off four teachers for the upcoming 2010-2011 school year. Well, technically speaking, they eliminated positions, which I guess sounds nicer than fired teachers. While four might not sound like a lot, when you do the math, about 30% of the teachers in that district no longer have jobs. Now that sounds like a lot. Imagine if a larger school district laid off 30% of their teachers? That would be newsworthy stuff right there.

What are these teacher supposed to do now? In larger, metro areas of the country, it might be easier for recently let-go teachers to find alternative employment, but in rural areas, such as the one I grew up in, it’s less likely. The four teachers I mentioned above were all tenured teachers, not that that means much, but it just shows that they were committed to the school they worked at and were probably feeling pretty comfortable about their future employment. Not anymore.

Two of the four teachers who had their positions eliminated are new moms. In fact, one gave birth only a couple of months after she learned that she would no longer have a job come fall. Another one of the teachers let-go has a list of medical problems that will continue to be an issue whether she’s employed or not. I’m sure finances are a huge concern for these teachers and their families. On top of all the expenses everyone else in the area has (mortgage, insurance, credit cards) these teachers have to also wrestle with student loan debt for the Masters Degrees they were mandated to obtain. As in, they had no choice but to get their Masters if they wanted to continue teaching in New York State. The state makes you get your Masters degree, but, of course, they don’t offer any financial assistance towards the cost of this requirement. But that’s a gripe for another day.

Finding jobs and dealing with mounting debt isn’t limited to recently laid-off teachers. I know many teachers in rural parts of the country who have been trying for years to find jobs. Including myself. I have an advantage over many of the other job-seeking teachers though, I don’t have children, making my job search much more mobile. When I realized that no jobs in the area would be opening up in my field within the next two or three years, I was able to hightail it out of there to more populated areas of the state with larger school districts and better job prospects. I even had the flexibility to leave the state and start new elsewhere. Relocating is expensive, time consuming and emotionally draining. It’s not something most unemployed teachers in rural areas can embark on.

Let’s take K.W., for example. K.W. is an unemployed high school English teacher with two sons. She is unmarried, and while she does reside with her boyfriend (the father of her sons), his income barely covers their expenses. K.W. lives in one of the poorest counties in New York State, and every year she watches as vacated teaching positions get eliminated instead of filled. She has applied for every available English opening, only to be rejected for every one.

The problem doesn’t lie with K.W., but with the circumstances that put K.W. at a disadvantage. You see, K.W.’s boyfriend is employed with a government agency that requires their employees to work swing shifts. Meaning, his schedule is constantly changing from month to month or week to week. K.W. tries to substitute teach in the area schools when she can, knowing that getting your foot in the door in a school is key to getting hired full-time. Unfortunately, she can only sub when her boyfriend’s schedule allows him to be home to watch the boys while she is at work. This doesn’t happen that often.

Day care is out of the question too. After doing the math, K.W. calculated that the amount of money she’d bring home from subbing, assuming she was able to work five days a week, would only be enough to cover the cost of daycare and nothing else. What’s the point then? Essentially, they’d be saving money by not having K.W. working. Unfortunately, come hiring time, K.W. doesn’t have enough of a foot in the door to land a full-time job.

But what about teachers who are able to get their foot in the door? They must have the advantage right? Well, not always. Sometimes having your foot in the door isn’t enough. Unfortunately, in rural areas, often times blood runs thicker than water. Take for example, J.P., an unemployed elementary teacher with a husband and two young daughters. J.P. has had the good fortune of being able to work as a teaching assistant and a substitute teacher at the schools in her area. Unfortunately, J.P. has yet to be hired full-time.

There is a factor involved here (and in many other people’s situations as well) that very few hiring committees or school districts will admit to, but time and time again, continues to happen. School districts, particularly in rural areas, tend to favor alumni and family when hiring. For example, let’s say J.P. applied for a position along with 40 other potential candidates. J.P. happens to be one of the eight fortunate applicants to move on to the interview stage. Unfortunately for J.P., another candidate graduated from the school holding the interviews, and the son of a 4th grade teacher already employed at the school have also been scheduled for interviews. J.P. may be the most experienced and qualified person for the job, but J.P. will not be getting the job.

Unfair? You betcha. But loyalty is strong in small communities, and the alum has a greater chance of being hired over J.P. just because he/she graduated from the school. Unfortunately for the alum, the son of the 4th grade teacher may have an advantage over everyone just because his mother already works for the school.

In conclusion, I wish I could offer a solution to the hardships teachers are facing right now, but I can’t. It pains me when I hear about my friends, my family and my acquaintances, many of them extremely capable teachers, continuously being rejected for teaching positions. I don’t think people truly understand the strikes against them that many teachers have before they even apply for a job. Good teachers are being passed up for positions all the time because circumstances beyond their control are working against them. It’s devastating.