Crazed's Essays

Webbilicious

How I (almost) Lost My Teaching Job
By P.R. Parker

It was a special ed class -- learning disabled. What a crock! In this particular district, "learning disabled" can be easily translated into "totally disabled as a decent human being". No home training, no manners, no self-control, no idea what life will be like for them ten to twenty years from now -- Heck, they don't even care what will happen to them ten days from now. All they can do is bebop and hiphop their way through their sorry lives, hoping to be "discovered" by some record producer so they can be rap stars.

For three days this was the only class that gave me hell. The other classes were wonderful. Yes, they were all special ed, but at least those kids had it on the ball, knew what was what, and knew they couldn't slide in their work. Not so with the fifth period 8th grade reading class. Did I say "reading"? They did everything but.
The regular classroom teacher left very simple plans. Just read aloud to the class a few pages from this wonderful book of student poems then have them complete exercises from their readers. Simple, huh? Not so with them. They were worse than any students I have had. And not much help (NO help at all) from neighboring teachers. And the school police was right next door. No help from them either!
On the third day -- the day I knew I should've called in "sick" (Hey it was my birthday and I have a policy not to work on my b-day, but that sense of duty kicked in -- STUPID, STUPID, STUPID!).

The students claimed I lost it. Well, I didn't jump and down and started screaming or crying or cursing. But THEY said I did. And they said I threatened to shoot them with a shotgun! They said I cursed them with liberal use of the "F" word. I do not hurl curse words at students, ever! I'm very careful about the words I use in front of students, and I never use foul language. Why is it that they can use it in front of me, direct it at me? One kid threatened me with bodily harm, even used the "F" word many times, directed at me. Three boys decided to tear down the balloons kids put up in the hall as homecoming decor. They brought the balloons into the classroom and bopped them all over the place.

Not once did an adult come in and help me out. Oh, they believed the little brats' lies all right, wholeheartedly. They said I spoke "voodoo". Huh? I was uttering Bible verses, Psalms to be exact, while the kids raised holy Hell. I do that all the time when things are getting to me. It calms me, and keeps me from losing it. The brats said I was "cursing" them, "hexing" them. Is it against school policy to quietly recite Bible verses, for my own comfort, even if said verses are not meant to convert students? I guess the administrators at this school thought otherwise.

Well, that sorry class ended, I took a much needed 50-minute breather before the last class arrived. The last period was a breeze. Just pop in the video, give them the worksheet and wrap the day. And make a note NEVER to sub for this building again.

Halfway through my break I was told to go downtown to see the sub supervisor. I had no idea what was going on. I thought something happened at home. No, it didn't, but I had an inkling those kids told some really telling tales. It was the beginning of the end of my sub teaching days. God, almost fifteen years of guest teaching in between going back to school, spending God knows how many thousands of bucks on tuition, test fees, license fees, books, resources, altering my schedule so I can fit in student teaching and studying. Now it is all for nothing. I got suspended from the sub pool and finding (and securing) a full-time teaching job will be that much harder with this big blot on my otherwise spotless work record.

One would think the folks in charge would bend with, "Well, she's been with us all this time with no complaints. She's one of IPS' better champions. Why not let it slide and let her continue teaching for us."
Oh no, they had to believe those kids whose own discipline records are spotty at best. They wholeheartedly believed lies upon lies. And I get the rotten end of the deal.

Well I'm done with IPS. They can sink for all I care. Right now, they're crying that the mayor has opened all these charter schools and IPS is losing an average of 300 students per year -- 300 students who should be in IPS, not charter schools. Well I have news for you. The charter schools are dancing rings around IPS. Those kids are actually learning; they're being challenged in ways an IPS student is not. A kid coming out of IPS is guaranteed he or she will wind up in remedial classes once they get to college. IPS students fall far behind all their other public, parochial, and charter school counterparts. IPS schools are full of gangsta wannabes, baby hoods who would rather raise hell then their ISTEP scores. The kids who lied on me, who singlehandedly short-circuited my teaching career will be in for a rude awakening when real life kicks in. Do I feel sorry for them? Hell no! Why should I?

So what is next for me? I'll collect unemployment to keep the bills paid, sending out resumes, filling out applications. Anything is better than substitute teaching for IPS. For now, IPS has made one more enemy -- ME!

Mayor Peterson can go ahead and open as many charter schools he wants. Maybe I can score a job with one. Any place but IPS. I am done with them for good.

CopyrightŠ2007 by P.R. Parker. All Rights Reserved.