Out of the trenches and into the Corps

 A reflection about teaching.

For the last two years I have worked as an art teacher at a local public middle school. What began as an "Temporary Emergency" substitute position due to the surging COVI-19 pandemic turned out to be a fantastic opportunity and invaluable life experience for me. 

6th grade student's masks

I am not going to lie, it was tough. The first year I was assigned to teach 6th grade "Art in World Cultures" in both a virtual and brick-and-mortar classroom settings. Nothing I had experienced as a staff or freelance artist, online or private school teacher, homeschooling mother or Girl Scout leader prepared me to face the challenges of that year. Not even my previous experience in a public classroom as a technology teacher years before prepared me for what I encountered. This was the year of mass mayhem, fear, uncertainty, grief and discomfort for everyone, including our young students. Parents who never imagined homeschooling their children were eager to give this unconventional methodology a try with the hopes of keeping their children safe at home. Unfortunately, the concept of homeschooling is widely misunderstood and as consequence, many remote students were often missing from their virtual classroom. Some were barely present via voice only, showcasing a black screen with their name as they busied themselves surpassing the next level of their favorite video game while pretending to attend class in order to appease their parents. 

Although I don't consider myself a tech guru, I am comfortable enough to not sink from lack of knowledge, so the new technical aspects of the job did not intimidate me. Apps like Google Classroom and Go Guardian saved every teacher in my district and demanded that everyone stepped up to integrate technology in their classrooms like never before. But even with these conveniences at our fingertips, teaching in the public school classroom in 2020 was a heroic act of massive proportions and one that no one outside of the education field will understand fully. I have never been more humbled and grateful towards my co-workers: fellow teachers and administrative staff who fought the same battle along side of me, day in and day out. I can assure you that we all received the well deserved summer vacation of June 2021 with open arms. 

First classroom ready for summer.

The year that I worked as a long term substitute teacher I earned less than half a teacher's annual salary while fulfilling the same responsibilities under extenuating circumstances. I also kept up with training demands made by the local school district and state department of education because I started to work under a "Temporary Teacher Certificate", valid for only 3 years. As a good Girl Scout, I left the place 10 times better than when I found it, organized to the T and ready to be refreshed. I never considered joining the union because I needed to hold on to every penny I made. Mistakenly, I figured that I would join it the moment I got my full teaching credential. 

After the summer break I looked for a permanent position in order to improve my financial situation. It turns out that the teacher I substituted for never returned to her job and the upper grades art teacher relocated out of state during the summer break. Although my hiring was unexpected and late ( I started the year 3 weeks after school was in session), I was ecstatic to return to the same school as a bona fide teacher. Well, as bona fide as my second year temporary credential allowed. My college degree, early childhood education certificate, studio and teaching experiences still required me to take a number of pedagogical college classes (paid out of pocket), and pass a total of six rigorous academic tests in order to obtain my professional teaching certificate. Still, I saw my achievements, the innumerable evenings holding my dog while crying from stress, the hard work and low income of the previous year as worth the trouble to finally obtain the coveted title of "Public school Art Teacher".   

My second year I was assigned to teach Studio Art and Intro to 3D Media for 8th grade. With my new-found thick skin, I was now impervious to the occasional "F*** this class" and other similarly cutting comments thrown at me by clueless and poorly guided teens; mostly when they realized that they actually needed to produce work in order to pass my class. I only had to deal with one insulting parent out of the many I called after school to discuss their student's behavior in my class. The large majority of parents thanked my efforts to help their students and often returned to administration with positive feedback after their interactions with me. For this, I was very grateful. My students were top performers in two local art competitions and I was able to start leading enrichment Art classes at the local art museum. I only cried once due to stress, (towards the end of the school school year), so I can almost congratulate myself for my fortitude. It was a huge leap from the previous year. At the end of the school year, while my colleagues enjoyed their first few weeks of summer vacation, I eagerly stayed behind for an additional 2 weeks, free of pay, to prepare "my" new classroom for the next academic year. I methodically sorted, organized, cleaned, scrubbed and  prepared my classroom, top to bottom, out of 7 years of unkept chaos and into an exemplary space where my students could create freely. The kind principal that hired me retired at the end of the year and I felt determined to start on my best foot with the new administration. Although tired, I was filled with positivity and hope for the new academic year. 

Summer happened as in a dream: very quickly! Besides from fixing the classroom, I was also busy preparing and submitting a portfolio to attend the MFA program in Studio Arts at UCF, which I found out I entered the week that my school district job started. I asked the new school administration to please cover me for a few hours on a regular weekly basis so I could attend the MFA classes but was asked not to make a "harsh decision". When I reiterated the fact that I would attend classes and just needed a few hours per week, I was asked to resign so they could post my position to find someone who could fulfill contract hours fully. Apparently the pandemic had put the substitute teacher pool in our district at an all time low and there are not enough to cover such request. I did as was told and I am now a substitute teacher again. Since then, I have substituted in my own classroom, graded and provided lesson plans after I was made to resign in hopes to make the transition easier for my students. After a few weeks of doing this, I came to find out that the prospective teacher to be hired fell thru and my position was still available. Within days, the job was filled by another teacher in the substitute pool. One that (unlike me) does not attend an MFA program in Studio Arts. 

"To do" board ready for first day back to work.

Somehow, my brain keeps telling me that something went awfully wrong here. Somehow, I can't help to feel utterly unappreciated. Somehow, I think that this would not have happened if my hiring principal was still in place (maybe, maybe not?). I called both the local teacher's association and the district's HR department to consult about my situation but they confirmed that it is up to each principal to accommodate such requests. Also, because I was a sub again and had never joined the teacher's association/ union, they could do nothing for me. 

After investing so much emotionally and physically in a pursuit, it is easy for me to remember that for the most part, we are only numbers to others. We are numbers to the government, we are numbers to our employers. Our partnerships come down to this: How much money can you contribute? If you are a stay-at-home mom, is your contribution fully and sincerely acknowledged to show the monetary value that you bring to the partnership? Probably not. When things go south, stay at home moms are a number to their dearest love and become another bill to pay or to avoid paying. This has been my experience.

 
In moments like this, I also remember that there is a small army of intelligent, empathetic and socially aware individuals fighting for universal income, universal health care and justice for all. These individuals tend to look at people's value beyond their gender, race, educational level, ability to generate income or have work be extracted from them. They tend to look at individuals merely for who they are and acknowledge their right to occupy space, be happy and evolve on this earth simply for being born. Wow, what a concept! Such ideology today is seen as utopian. Our world relies on systematic poverty and incarceration, exploits gentle animals to their death, underpays people who are the structural pillars of our society and over-medicates students to compliance (to name a few).  

Although I am leaving the trenches of public school education before my valuable, temporary teaching certificate expires, I know that I am elevating myself to a different place. In a world of numbers, my consolation is knowing that someday this fact will make my number more valuable to an employer. In my world, this "harsh decision" is in part an act of defiance to people who once told me to stay where I belong (meaning beneath them). I know that I have always been driven  by a promise to myself as an artist and a higher power within me to make more of who I am. The worst moments of my life have been my own doing for forgetting this promise. So I am charging forward in my new path. It is after all, a "Live and learn" kind of life. : )