Grime and Punishment--and Rewards
Today, teaching is a hot profession for the wrong reasons. Johnny still can’t read or write. Blame the twin demons, illiteracy and apathy, who roam the classrooms, possessing students and discouraging teachers.
I taught English for six years before bailing, vowing never to return. Poor parental guidance and abysmal student effort finally got to me. But I almost refused my destiny. Why, you ask?
In one class, my students’ skills level included special education, limited English proficiency, average and high achieving. This means while my special education student would still be processing my directions, my limited-English-proficiency student would be mentally translating from English to Spanish, my average student would have begun the work and my high achiever would be nearly finished.
Poor self-discipline and impulsiveness are common, as is deception, an unwillingness to work and an inability to read from a book for 10 minutes without wearing it as a hat, a mask or spinning it on the desktop. Gone are the days when students possessed self-discipline because they were disciplined by their parents. No longer is the classroom a sanctuary.
The physical environment, too, is daunting. In my small bungalow, mildew encrusts the beams and ceiling tiles, yet my classroom is low on the list for a paint job. The roof refuses to keep out rain. A light fixture drips black goo onto students and desks. Windows don’t open. An air-conditioning unit is three years away. However, I am soon to receive new Venetian blinds.
With 220 bodies shuffling through this space, the dirt accumulates. Our custodial staff is short-handed, so I dust, sweep, dry-mop and, yes, do windows. Once a year, I receive new trashcan liners.
After hours? I’m at school until 4:30 p.m. grading papers, planning lessons and preparing materials. At 11 p.m., I’m correcting journal entries and other written assignments and recording grades.
Nightly from home, with my Spanish/English dictionary close at hand, I telephone parents; I want their children to succeed. I’ve taken computer classes at my own expense, so as to integrate computer technology in the classroom. I write grant proposals, study Spanish and take music and art classes to enrich my curriculum. I have little personal time.
So why return to teaching, such that it is? On bad days, I have a good cry, pondering that very question. Most days, however, are tear-free, for in my own egomaniacal way, I believe that I can make a difference, that I will teach Johnny, Juan, Ali and Natasha to read their books; that, through me, they will learn to compose error-free sentences. This job is intensely worthwhile. When I see the lightbulbs go off above my students’ heads, well, no paint job or air-conditioning unit can compare.
