Education reform and being a librarian

 

I believe that education reform is needed in our country, and especially within the state of Florida. We are ranked 45^th in the country for education spending. I do not have an inkling what that this reform can and should look like. I do know that our education system here in Florida is at a breaking point. Teachers become teachers not for fame and glory, and certainly not for the money. They want to teach children; it is their passion. Imagine this for yourself. You received education to obtain a career in teaching. You were taught by teachers who knew the world when you were younger; when the world was different, before technology took over so significantly. The issues you face as a teacher are very different from the issues your teachers faced when they taught you; that is the nature of society; issues will always be a part of society. You are required, as is true in many walks of life, to keep up with ongoing education to renew a state certificate every five years; that can help you keep up with ongoing issues and societal changes. I am all for that. All of us should experience ongoing education – it keeps us fresh and our minds moving. But you also must follow state and district mandates about what/how to teach (how to do your job) and still follow your passion. The children you teach undergo standardized testing; tests created by adults who think children at a certain age are one-sized-fits all and should absolutely know this or that at each age. You know better; children come in all shapes and sizes, and they all come to the table with their individual background knowledge (or lack of even the most basic social skills) and personalities. There is no consideration for outside influences. Children do not ever fit into one mold, and as society changes daily, that becomes more and more obvious. However, when the children you teach do not fit into that mold of what others can (“should”) do or learn, you are told you are an inferior educator, and YOU need to take stock of what/how you teach, and you need to work more, do more, change more; put in even more effort than you already do. It does not matter that the children you teach do not know their own birthday or their parents’ names, or even how to say hello, please or thank you. As a matter of fact, the state TELLS you what you should be teaching and exactly how to teach it, without regard for the above. So, the one-sized-fits-all mold gets tighter and tighter, and the children you teach who are vastly different from home to home, neighborhood to neighborhood, city to city, even state to state – they do not fit into that mold, and they fall farther and farther behind. You are held responsible and are told you are an ineffective teacher. It is a slow burn process which is catching up faster and faster. The achievement gap is real, and it gets wider and wider every day. Children of poverty struggle more and more, and the cycle of this becomes more and more prominent. Truthfully, it is not only true of children of poverty; it is true of children worldwide, regardless of skin color, religious backgrounds, or the wealth of parents. Just as adults are vastly different in temperament, in attitudes, in abilities, children are as well. Children of poverty; children everywhere; can and do learn, but they cannot and do not learn the same way as children “just like them” from all over the state or country, and to test them as such is wrong; each child is unique and special and has their own unique, special way of learning. This one-sized-fits all measure sets everyone – the child, the teacher, the school – up for failure.

Through all of this, the teacher is trying diligently to hold it together, to flow with continual daily, weekly, monthly mandated changes. Today, at almost the one-year mark, teachers and students are still expected to learn the same as they were this time last year, before our world fell into a global pandemic. We were heroes, at first, for trying to teach through e-learning. When it came time for a new school year, the state of Florida said, oh, no, our economy is failing. We must get the kids back in school so parents can get back to work. We were told to quit whining, that kids were not as susceptible to the virus killing thousands of people. We would be okay. Keep our kids – KIDS; really? were you not a child? social distanced, wearing masks, and keep on teaching; we have goals to meet, standards to meet. When a vaccine was discovered we would be considered first responders and would be given the vaccine. But not in Florida. We are not in the first or second wave of vaccines. Also? Let us make sure ALL kids get back to school; parents have been told (in high poverty schools), if your child is not back in school and if they are behind, they will not be promoted to the next grade. No pressure there. No child left behind. I pray each day I do not get sick. Because my kids need books, yes. My job is not now and has not been over the past year about books; it is about giving out computers, getting them back, fixing them; adapting to what the teachers need. But even more now, children need hugs and reassurance. They need love. They, too, are afraid. They understand that they might “fail”. They often do not care. But they also understand the world is big and scary and there is a pandemic – but they do not understand that I am not supposed to hug them. So, when they ask, I do. And again, I pray I do not get sick. Because the state says, oh, you are not valuable enough right now for this vaccine. Our school district is delighted to offer the vaccine to people in their employ – for this over 65 right now. I can guarantee you that most teachers/educators IN the classroom exposed daily to 20 or more “social distanced” students? They are under 65, and not any less susceptible. The virus truly does not care about age.

The pressure and stress are taking a toll, and teachers are changing careers. Teachers with passion for teaching children are walking away in high numbers. And I will be one of them in June of 2022.

I am an educator in the State of Florida; I have been proud to call myself a librarian; proud of that MLS after my name. I thought it would be my “forever” career until I retired; sharing my own passion for books and literature with children, hoping to steer them on a path of lifelong learning and reading. What more could anyone ask from a career? Sadly, because of the politics of education from both state and district levels, I have made the decision to leave a job I have no doubt I am good at. I am deemed highly effective in a high needs, high poverty, failing school; I am evaluated on the reading scores of each and every child in my school, but I am still considered highly effective. In June of 2022 I will be vested in the retirement system, and it will not give me much upon my actual retirement, whenever that may be, but it will be a little something. It will be time to leave and move on to something else unless, between now and then, something drastically changes. I know that in my 13 years, so far, I have impacted thousands of children’s lives. In the first half of my life as a librarian I was a true librarian; supplying rich connections and countless ideas of the worlds that books can lead us to; I could share and encourage a passion for reading and learning. In this second, current half of my career, I have given the students a different gift; that of love, connection, and value. I went from a truly high learning environment with students whose parents give their children the moon, to a school in the extreme opposite. My current students are from high needs, low-income housing, and 98% are considered to be living below poverty level. Education is not a top priority for so many of them. To quote Kathryn Stockett, I try to make them know “You is smart. You is kind. You is important” and I mean it when I try to give them that sense of worth. I cannot teach them to read; I can give them books and know they may not read them, but I can let them know they are loved and hope one day that can spark something beautiful inside of them.

I first got into the field of education nearly 14 years ago as a fluke. I had finished my BA after several starts and stops, and when my husband left my mother encouraged me to finish it. In 2004 I did; I was awarded my BA in Humanities, and I had fallen in love with the Italian Renaissance and wanted to pursue a career in Humanities. A wonderful professor advised me to go to library school; she said Kim, in Humanities, without a doctorate, that would be an uncertain career. She suggested library school; with that I could pursue my humanities interest and still be, at that time, guaranteed a career path.

When my mother died in 2005, not long after my graduation, I floundered; I did not want my life to go by me, as hers had, and in a sense, it was her gift to me. She had wanted a career in newspapers, but instead chose the path of motherhood and marriage. At the same time, she also truly encouraged us to follow our hearts and our dreams; to do and be more. When I was a little girl, she and her best friend Donna discussed what their children might become when they were grown. My mom said she saw me, even back then, as a librarian. I remember thinking, um, no. Librarians are stodgy. They wear thick heeled shoes, nylons, dresses, hair in a bun. No. Not for me. After my mother died, I put the advice of Naomi, my humanities professor/advisor, and my mom’s words from my childhood together, and I applied and was accepted to the Library and Information Science program at USF, Tampa.  

I was attending library school with every intention of working in museums and archives. I decided, as an elective, to take a children’s literature course with Dr. Dunkley. Dr. Dunkley told me I was a children’s librarian at heart. Again, I said, no. I want to work in museum archives. She said, Kim. You are a children’s librarian. I took another course with Dr. Dunkley, and when I had four classes left to graduate, I was offered, and accepted a position as a children’s librarian at a private school. It turns out everyone was right, despite my not believing it. I am good at my job; I know this with my heart. It saddens me to think of leaving it. I have no idea what I will do next. I do know that the education system needs reform. I do not have any idea what that should look like. I know my worth as an educator. But I also know my worth as a person, and if I do not take care of myself and my own needs, no one else will. The state of Florida certainly cannot. It hurts my heart to consider leaving a career I have been successful at. But self-preservation is a higher need for me. It is still to be determined what I will do next, but I want to continue to make a difference, somehow, somewhere.