Year Five: An Introduction

Well, this is it.

I am currently in my fifth year of teaching, and according to everything I have heard about teacher longevity (this Washington Post article is an example of these relics), I should be done next year, plain and simple.

And, you know, I'm surprised I haven't jumped ship sooner. I've been fired, screamed at by one principal and guilt-tripped by another, worked 14- and 16- hour days, only to wake up and realize it's a Tuesday and my grading still wasn't done. I've written curriculum that sucked, or was told it sucked before it even hit the ground. I've sat through more ineffective professional development than I can quantify through simple mathematics and I've railed against those that provide it to ill effect. And, last but not least, I have seen teachers, through teachers' unions, fight this battle through the same political muckraking that corrupts other causes I once thought were noble.

This should be it, but here I am, writing and thinking about it on August 20th, 2010, on a beautiful evening.

Why am I thinking about this?

I am not entirely sure. I think it is because I do really love teaching. It is an identity thing for me, part of who I am, and in Years Two and Three, I thought there was no way I'd ever do anything else. Sure, it got tough, but what job doesn't? Aside from that, kids love you, kids learn with you, kids find value in your classes. No big deal, right?

Well, that's just it. I've entertained the thought of leaving this job. I came close to sending my resume out the door last year, and I came closer this summer. And while it would be heartbreaking to depart teaching, I feel like sometimes it might be necessary to preserve my sanity, my soul, and my heart.

The bottom line is that I feel at once redeemed, enlightened, abused, neglected, and alone in this work, distrustful in others who are supposed to be helping us do it well (read: administrators, parents, students, and yes, other teachers). I desperately wish teaching could happen just in the classroom, but it doesn't. The truth of the matter is that the 'trenches' teachers talk about involve some ugly parts of schools in America that others rarely see, and that, according to the Washington Post, 1 in 2 teachers survive.

I think I started this blog for two reasons: first is that my other educational blogs failed miserably, because they were just on the 'state of education' in general in America. Too broad, too unfocused, too hard to write about. I needed one with a goal, with a specific purpose and a learning objective.

The second reason is that learning objective: I need to understand why people leave this profession, and I need to understand why they leave it and say that they love it at its core: guiding students to an education that empowers them to succeed. I need to get what else is out there; what teachers find when they do leave, and leave forever. Finally, I need to reaffirm the purpose of this work, beyond the 'meager' pay and 'horrendous' working conditions that so many teachers complain about.

I need to know why that lady in New Jersey was so fired about Governor Christie's tax cuts, really.

I need to know why two teachers I know left the profession for industry last year.

I need to know precisely why I come home from an average day feeling like I've had the emotional shit beaten out of me, and why I didn't feel better after seeing the pomp and circumstance that followed the graduating class of 2010 out the door.

I need to know why I do this, and why it is so likely that I will leave this year.

If you are reading this, thank you. I just want to let you know in advance that I don't expect you to; this is more for me than anything else. But, comments and insights are welcome; who knows...you might even be a teacher in my shoes, or past them. Either way, I will conclude this blog at the end of this, my fifth year of teaching, and you'll know exactly what I chose to do.

For my purposes, you will never know where I teach or who I teach with, unless you know who I am in the first place. If that is the case, I beg you to hold this in strict confidence, because the things I am likely to say here could get me fired. It is just that simple.