The other day I came unglued at work. It is the first time this year – or really, I believe since I have been at my school, that I truly got lost in great, gulping sobs. As a professional I know I am supposed to remain such; try to stay calm, cool, focused; professional, whatever that might mean. Why, I wonder? When did being a professional supersede and discount human nature? I know it’s been drilled into me; be professional, and professional means presenting a cool armor. But that is not who I am. I am emotional. I am a thinker. I react, and not always in expected ways. I get sad and glad; frustrated, angry, happy – or even passive while I am on the job. I am not sure if it is my age turning into some semblance of wisdom, but I am really questioning this idea of professionalism. I do not doubt my own integrity, my own morality, and my own ethical choices, but I do find myself considering just what it means right now.
Let me interject by stating these are my personal views and opinions. I have hesitated writing too much about or sharing much of my professional experiences before now. I work in a public-school setting; prior to this I worked in a private school setting, and I can view this profession of mine from both views. Right now, the district I work in is undergoing some serious issues. A few years ago, there was a power struggle, and the superintendent was removed from her position. Right or wrong, it happened. I do not know details and won’t presume to know or understand or change the past. I do know that since then there have been massive changes in all areas of the district. Cuts, changes, re-deployed resources, jobs eliminated, pay raises denied, then approved at a lower rate. It’s ugly. There are massive dissatisfied grumbles from nearly everyone I come in contact with, and not just at my school. But here is the thing. Those of us who stay, do so for a few reasons. First and foremost, because we believe in what we do. Maybe others are close to retirement and just need to hang in there a year; two, three. Anyone who joins the education profession in this day in age must be prepared to be undermined, ridiculed, undervalued, judged, reproached, and so on. We do not stay for the pay, for the glory – and believe it or not, we do not do it because we are paid for being off three months out of the school year. We pay into a bank which reserves 12% of our pay from every single pay check to compensate when we are not at school. Imagine your own pay with 12% less each pay check? We do not do what we do for the money. We use our own funds to buy basic supplies to do our jobs, and we use our own money to supplement the educational needs of our kids. We rarely, if ever, get to go out to lunch as most of my friends in other professions do. If we get lunch it is a fast bite between classroom chores and responsibilities. We do not get breaks; we need someone to cover us if we need to use the restroom. We take our work home because there are never enough hours in a day. Everyone knows the sacrifice of teachers, and yet it is something that is rarely questioned or taken into consideration when we talk of how education and educators are failing the students.
Back to my original thought of what it takes to be a professional. I have a boss this year who currently represents what I consider the presence of professionalism. My school received an “F” grade from the state this past year. It was not for a lack of trying on the part of any one of the people at our school last year. We all worked hard, heart and soul. Many people left because it was too difficult to do one more year. In June, when the school grade came out, we were assigned a new principal. Everything that was a procedure in our school over the previous 10 years was cast aside as wrong; we failed, why wouldn’t everything we had done or accomplished become irrelevant? Everyone who knew anything about our school or its culture was diminished and relieved of any part of planning for the new year, including the former leadership team, media center program and procedures, the ESE department, the cafeteria, dismissal procedures, behavior incentives – everything. Each of us had to wait for everything we needed to know. We waited to meet with our new leader one on one until a few weeks into the school year. Our ideas and thoughts were never considered or listened to. We were told what we would and would not do based on someone who did not know or understand our students, their families. We were told that She came from a school worse than ours and it would be Her way; the way She single handedly raised the grade of the last school She was at. We heard all about Her glories and achievements. She stood in front of us and told us of how it would be, and how She had assembled a leadership team that would be successful (since that time, two of her leadership members have left). Each person on that team were new to our school. She sang their praises and She drove a wedge between all of us with those first words. She stood before us as a group and she dropped some choice language, saying, what - that is how THEY talk; you've never heard that language before? She continued to extol Her own virtues. She told us there would be no student behaviors. There would be no absent students. She told us she was a firm, but fair leader. She told us she would make us all become better at our craft. She stands before us and she makes proclamations. Then she undermines them, changes her mind, makes us feel inferior and she changes her mind and says she never said what we heard her say.
She asked me to provide my media procedures, and when I did, she tossed them out and implemented the procedures from her old school. Lets just stop there. This is basically what has been done to the entire school. I am no different from any other teacher struggling to remain calm and professional this school year. I manage a media center of around 13,000 books; which have to be inventoried and accounted for every other year; this being the year. I am a support resource for all teachers. I have no assistant, no aide, no volunteers. My professional evaluation is based on the reading score of each and every student at my school, although I do not teach reading. I am the school technology resource – I am responsible for the care and maintenance of around 30 classrooms; around 350 computers, 30ish printers and copiers. I am responsible to inventory each and every technology item located within the school; a 32-page report done at the beginning of each and every school year. Yes. I do actually have the responsibility of close to two full time positions – the technology resource position was eliminated the year I came to my school. Technology, especially at the beginning and end of the school year accounts for over 75% of my time. I juggle a lot and I manage, and I have learned a lot along the way. Each year I have been evaluated as Effective – my first year. Highly Effective two years, and this year I missed Highly Effective by .36 of a point (yes…I was short of a highly effective rating by 3/10ths of a point). I am very proud of the job I do. I love my students and want a future for them. I am at a school with an F grade. My score is based on the reading scores of a student body in a failing school. This year I am valued as Effective, but that proves to me that I was valued and appreciated, and that I did a really good job supporting the teachers, staff and students. My former principal’s evaluation included five exemplary ratings and the rest accomplished on every task. There were no progressing ratings and there were no needs-improvement ratings.
This year a new implementation for me is that I, along with another member of the support staff, provide relief for teachers planning times done on a rotating scheduled. She and I see each class every two weeks for 30 minutes at a time. I have never been with an entire class at my school without the teacher being present. I am not now, or have I ever been a classroom teacher, and I am not equipped to handle classroom behaviors as a whole. Best practices in the district media handbook state that the teacher should remain with the media specialist in order to handle class disciplines. This is the way it has always been since I have been at the school, until this year. I have tried to be acquiescent, however. I don’t think the time the students come during their teacher planning time is an effective use of students use of the library. I feel I am not successful during these times. I do not give student grades, so there is lack of incentive for the students. They do not earn incentives in their classrooms, and quite honestly, the times that I am with these students are among the most unproductive moments I have ever spent with children in my entire career. I will share more of that later.
There is more wrong at my school than right this school year. Each of us feels belittled, confused, angry, scared, upset daily. The students run rampant. Because incentives were taken away, the rewards of good behavior are unclear and undefined. Students of high poverty schools can learn, but they need so much more support and time; they need structure, rules, constant redirection; but above all that they need love and security. Many classroom teachers are not being successful; a few are. We currently have 13 instructional positions open. Since the beginning of the school year we have had 7 teachers leave for other districts or for other careers. We did not fill all positions at the beginning of the year, so resource teachers have been subbing in classrooms without teachers. Subs refuse jobs at our school or come and leave halfway through the day. Resource teacher jobs are to provide teacher support; extra lessons, break-out sessions, advice, guidance, and so on, but because each and every one of them sub in one class or another, there is no extra push in support being provided. Student behaviors are a huge issue. No students, however have been suspended this school year, so the district has recorded that our behavior issues are 100% handled. No referrals have been written. Students, daily, are sent home without a consequence, except they are sent home. They leave class un-escorted. They run around school. We have elopers – students who jump the fence and run or walk out the gate. Walkie-talkies have been turned off, and teachers who call the office are told to handle it on their own. The fire alarm has been pulled twice this year by students. The students hit, kick, bite, punch - they physically attack their teachers, turn over desks, rip things from the walls, break pencils, throw computers, projectors, document cameras – they rip cords from the back of computers, break pencils, destroy library books and other school property. I, myself, this year have been scratched, punched, head butted, kicked, and slapped. Being told “NO” or being cursed at vilely is an everyday occurrence. We are a Kindergarten – 5th grade school. Morale is terrible. Each day one or more of us cries with frustration, hurt, anxiety.
This is all a matter of fact. This week, though, my struggle became more personal, more real. I was required to sign up to be observed by the principal. I was working on a lesson with a particular 5th grade class. I was told no; that someone else had signed up in that slot of time, so I had to choose another class, but it needed to be during the time I cover for teacher planning. I arranged for the original class to come a different time; I knew they would be successful at what I wanted to accomplish. Again, I was told no. I arranged a third time for this class. I was told no. It had to be done by Friday. Because of this, I had to arrange a less-than-desired class. Still. I thought I might be able to make it work. The original lesson was for 5th grade; this was a third-grade class, but I adapted the lesson. The teacher decided she would work one-on-one with the few problem kids, so I prepared the rest of the class for the lesson. I was careful with the lesson plan, sharing it with the principal so she could see what I was attempting. From the moment she appeared it was a failure. She came before the kids were there, she asked me why they were not there, and she reminded me she was there to observe (thank you, Captain Obvious). I explained that their teacher picks them up from lunch and brings them to me. The teacher had a hard time lining them up; the principal stepped in, which irritated the teacher and escalated the behaviors. From the moment they came into the library I realized it was not the same group of students I had seen the week before. The day before this teacher and her suite-mate had decided to regroup their kids. From a teacher stand-point that is a great idea. I get it - one teacher works in an area where they are stronger; the other teacher works with the group she is stronger with. It's a good idea for the kids. However, from a “special” stand-point, this is a terrible idea. It is liking packing for Alaska and getting rerouted to Jamaica. You can make it work, but you need to re-evaluate and re-plan; maybe buy some different supplies. It was not an option at that point. The behaviors were huge. I was flummoxed, and I was unable to control the talking, the negatives, the atmosphere. Half of the kids were un-engaged because they did not receive the first part of the lesson, and un-engaged kids act out. The lesson was planned above their ability. It was a disaster, from her first words to me, to her walking out 20 minutes later. The teacher came to get the kids and I barely was able to not cry in front of them. I made it to the back and I sobbed my heart out. At the switch. The frustration, the anger, the principal not saying, hey, you know what, lets do this again, as she has told every other teacher she would do. I was advised to send her an email explaining what happened. Like the majority of the emails we send, she did not respond. Feed back is Monday. I will not be given another chance to do it again.
Friday a new little girl with psoriasis was in the media center with her class. She is new to us and I have been watching her behavior. She is very timid and seems ready to cry at every moment. I know the kids are being kids and are being less than nice. She asked me if she could have lunch with me. I said yes, and when I got her, I asked two other girls to come to break the ice with her. The girls were eating and were working on speaking, finding common ground when their teacher came in. She spoke to them about classroom behavior, which was fine. But on her heels came the principal. I thought, oh maybe she is here to tell me hey, let’s re-plan that session. No. She, too, berated the girls on their classroom color chart. One is a little girl who shuts down when confronted. I know this. Every teacher there knows that; her teacher knew – she spoke quickly, quietly, without berating the girls. The principal did not. She proceeded to speak harshly. She told the new little girl she expected more, and she threatened the girl who shuts down with failing 5th grade. She told the her she was being disrespectful for not answering her. She assured her failing was not a threat – it was a fact. The new little girl started crying. And then the principal turned on me. She berated me, in front of all three girls, for sending three boys back to class earlier when I was working, alone, with a class of 26 5th graders. I had asked them to come back in 15 minutes to check out books. I told her, yes, I did send them back to class, but then they came back as instructed. They proceeded to wrestle in the media center, so again they were sent back to class without books. She told me this went against her wishes, that the media center was never to be closed and she had told me earlier in the year students WOULD check out their own books. I told her what had happened and my reasons for not allowing student self-check-out. She told me she was not happy, and we WOULD be discussing it further Monday. She turned on her heel and walked out, leaving the four of us stunned. I apologized to the girls and tried to make it a learning moment for them. I told them that even teachers get into trouble sometimes, and we all needed to work together to make things better. The girls left, my mission of bringing them together as an ice breaker uncertain. Another teacher who was sitting at another table said she was stunned, too. She was expecting the principal to tell me to re-plan the failed lesson and to be observed again. She was stunned at the lack of professionalism, of the lack of professional courtesy toward me, of her berating me in front of students. For her, she was more appalled and stunned at how she berated the girls; she knows the girl who shuts down, and obviously the principal did not know her well at all. She told me that I needed to start documenting each thing that is happening. Once again, I became unglued. It made me cry again. Another friend sat with me as we had lunch together. I put my head down and said I feel like I am having a break-down. She rubbed my back, reminding me of my worth and how this does not define me as a person. She is 100% right, but in those deep moments it is so hard to stay positive and hopeful.
What is interesting is I called and spoke with the media specialist from Her old school. I asked her how she did self-check-out for the kids. Her kids are high poverty, as are mine. She told me the teachers did stay with her when she taught lessons, and she was surprised I was not allowed to choose the class I wanted to be observed on. She told me her kids did self-check-out, but only when she was able to watch them and manage their exceptions; kids from high poverty schools move a lot, and in the process their library books are often lost, damaged, destroyed. We have to over-ride those exceptions on every single student, because even if books are lost or damaged we, as librarians, want our kids to have books. She said if the students came in when she was teaching, if they acted up, yes, they were sent back to class with loss of library privilege that day. She said they would choose their books, leave them with their card and she would check them out and deliver them later. Her school, like mine is highly transient, which means students move around a lot; often they need a new library card and there was no way that the students could be relied on to checkout their own books accurately.
It seems that I am being ordered to do things they were done at the principal’s old school; except they really were never done the way she remembered they were done. After tomorrow’s post-observation conversation and addressing my failures, including unexpected classroom management, a failed lesson plan, and of not allowing students to check out their own books it will be over; for a while. The attention will move somewhere else, to someone else. I debated sharing this publicly on my blog, but I decided that yes, I needed to. I am a public servant. Everything I do is subject to scrutiny. But. If my wrongs are the things that will get me fired, such as sharing things I would like to see fixed, then, so be it. Things need to improve somehow, someway. I work hard. I am in my 11th year of being an Effective/Highly Effective Librarian/Media Specialist/Technology Resource. I am a professional. Everything I do, every decision I make is because I feel it is in the best interest of the students and teachers I serve. I worked very hard to acquire a master’s degree in a profession I have been passionate about. I love sharing books with children. I love being a resource for teachers, so they can better teach their students. These are the things not happening, and it hurts my heart that we have to fight our system, that we are undermined at every turn while we try to help provide hope and a future for our children. That is what every educator I know wants to accomplish. I hope that all these internal struggles somehow pay off. I know that we lose excellent staff in the meantime. People who became educators in order to make a difference for students, but we cannot always deal with the personal toll it takes. I am there myself. I am seriously considering where I will be next year, and what career choice might be better for me personally. The personal challenge to my own physical and mental health is too high. I cannot say what I want to happen, exactly. Equity of voice, maybe? A small shred of dignity and appreciation; to know I am valued? Above all I want the children I serve to have an opportunity to succeed. Their lives are hard enough, and they need stability, respect, and a better chance to learn. The school I was at prior to this has a motto which I still love and value. How do we treat others? With dignity and respect. It's not too much to ask. Life is hard enough.
I’ve been doing so much personal soul searching this school year. There is much going on in our entire world, and more importantly, in our country which is truly toxic. As Americans we have freedom of voice and belief, and this freedom to be diverse can become toxic if we are not aware. The environment in which I work has been reflective of this toxicity, too. It happens before we know it and can be all consuming if we allow it to be so. I play a part in the lives of so many people; it is the job and career I chose. I chose it because I needed a job, but I also chose it because of my passion for books, and for education. Public education is a source for much discussion these days. Antiquated, maybe, not reflective of our society, maybe. But I believe in books, learning, and education with my entire being. I was so fortunate to grow up within a community – and a state – which valued public education. It took a village to help raise my schoolmates and myself, and it was not perfect, yet the opportunities were there for us if we choose to take them, and we were guided and supported by the community in which we lived. My life was not perfect or easy; just like everyone else, “stuff” happened in life that made growing up difficult. But my parents had hope, they had friends who helped, and a community that really reinforced their lessons to my siblings and myself. I think that might be what is lacking in the lives of my students and their families; Hope. Poverty can become generational and cyclical if allowed. It does not have to be, but it certainly can be. Without hope it makes it so much harder to survive the curves life can throw.
I can see the lack of hope in the lives of my students. And I can also see that I fell prey to it in my professional life. When people are brow-beaten and dictated to about how things WILL be it is understandable that it can go a few ways. A person can become resentful, bitter, convinced they are a failure; lose hope and perspective. A person can become meek, timid, afraid to make simple decisions; debilitated with fear to be considered wrong. Or, a person can recognize their own worth and their own abilities and become stronger. I fell into the meek territory for a while, but it is not a place I want to stay. For someone who recognizes her own personal self-worth, it has been a bit eye-opening. The reality is that I started to believe that I was not a strong enough person, a strong enough professional; a strong enough librarian; that I did not have what it takes to succeed any longer. Because I was told – we all were – that what we did in the past was not successful by someone who was supposed to have a better big picture, I let fear and doubt slip into my life. It has taken a lot of quiet thought and a lot of reinforcement from friends, from family, from colleagues to remind me that I am good at what I do. The opinion of one individual can matter, especially if that one person is the one who ultimately gets to affect my professional standing. But she does not get to decide my ultimate worth. I have given too much power to her words and actions, and I am grateful for the reflection time – and for the words, actions, and support of everyone in my life who matters to help me remember my worth. This is the person I want to be for my students. One who matters, one who helps them know that they do count, that they are worthy. I want to be a person who helps show them the hope they so desperately need. I want to shine a light into their souls and their lives. I want them to have hope.
