A Teacher's Day

by J.G. Fabiano

I had a great day.....

..... yesterday. But even the greatest of days doesn't make it any easier to get up at 5:00 in the morning. If only I could get to bed before 11:00 pm on school nights. But with my afternoon job and mountains of correcting being precipitated every day, that possibility is basically impossible. So here I am, shocking myself awake with a cold shower so I can stay alert for the approaching new day.

My wife gets up every morning with me and takes the opportunity to share some conversation over a cup of coffee. We both cherish this time together because other than our morning conversations we spend too little time together. After a few minutes I say my good-byes and always remember to kiss my sleeping daughter. I also spend too little time with her but that is the nature of the beast called teaching.

I'm always off to work before 6:00am because it is critical to arrive at school at least 45 minutes early to complete any final preparations for my classes and to see if their are any further reports due for either the administration or the many guidance and special education departments. I've been told that the many reports and questionnaires are a necessary tool. But they take up too much of my time. They seem so redundant and most of the time they probably either get filed away or lost.

I run down to the teacher's room to make some copies of problem sheets to be worked on by some of my classes. The copy machine usually doesn't work and their is never enough paper to complete the copying. I once complained to the main office and was told that I use too much paper and I should try to conserve on supplies because the town's people are threatening to lower next years supply budget. I try to explain that I use a lot of copying material because I don't have text books in some of my classes. By that time the office secretary decides to ignore me because after all, I am only a teacher.

The busses arrive. In come the numerous students ranging from age 12 to 21. Their entrance is noisier than a L.A. riot. But they are young and youth by definition is energy and vitality. The school day begins with attendance and the Pledge of Allegiance being recited. Most students do not even attempt to stop their conversations until half way through the pledge. They just don't see why they are asked to be bothered. My classes always begin with a review of what we have covered the previous day. Most of my students now begin to pay attention but I always see in their eyes that they would rather be anywhere else. They don't understand why they are being forced to learn something they think they will never use and probably soon forget.

Looking around my room I see some of my student's eyes begin to half close. I used to think that my teaching style put many of them to sleep. But after many meetings with guidance and special education departments I discovered that most of these students have full time jobs after school to help their families survive. Some students openly rebel by refusing to waste their time studying something they feel is useless. I try to explain that in their futures they will appreciate understanding various ideas and concepts so they can successfully make decisions in their lives. Most of the time I get comments about how an education is not worth anything except maybe for the fact that they can make more money if they graduate. They sometimes even bring up articles in the local paper describing how the schools are bankrupting the towns and a cut-back in funding is necessary. They ask me why they should believe that education is important when the community believes education is not worth the expense?

I continue to explain that money is not an ends to life. Understanding is more important than how much they can make because money is an empty goal. I tell them that an intellectual life creates a happier life-style because it fulfills why we are here. By now most of my students sneer at this explanation because they see what happened to me by choosing an intellectual life. I became only a teacher.

My day continues with an attempt to have my students understand concepts that they can't believe they will need to survive in this world. Every year I have more and more students sincerely believe that they will not have the future their parents had because if the AIDS virus doesn't kill them, the national debt will eliminate any chance they had to attain a good life. These are the students who argue that if one doesn't take the opportunity to live for today, they will never experience life. They have a difficult time delineating between their present and their future.

Lunch is rarely experienced. I only have a few minutes left of the twenty minute block I am allotted because it is necessary for me to set up for my afternoon classes. So instead of eating I go to my mail box to find numerous questionnaires concerning special needs students. These are the students I feel most compassion for. They are never allowed to be free of the label they came into school with. I once asked one of the special needs teachers if any students evolved into becoming main stream. Needless to say I never received an answer. My frustration erupts when I am able to finally challenge these young men and women only to be told that I am not following their iep's and that I am not following the program as instructed. I sincerely believe that these students yearn to be challenged like their peers and they would love to have their title of special needs put to rest.

Some days I even get letters from the parents of "underachieving" students asking why their child is not doing well in my class and why I am not able to earn the money paid by correctly teaching their child. I try to explain to them that students in many of my classes are being challenged and that the constant perfect grades enjoyed by their children in earlier grades are not that attainable in the higher grades. I also explain to many a parent that their children can't be perfect in everything they do. I once told a parent that pure perfection is synonymous with nothing. Some are better in English than Math and vica-versa. These parents never leave convinced of my arguments. I pray every day that I don't put this kind of strain on my daughter. One of my favorite quotes is that "high potential is the heaviest baggage a young person can carry."

A day never passes when I don't see one or more of my students with their eyes dilated because of some drug or alcohol. I desperately try to reach these children in the hopes that I can convince them to leave their bodies alone and give their minds a chance. They rarely answer me and only turn away for after all I am only a teacher. Many of my older colleagues state that our profession has become less teaching and more social work. But if this is what has to be, so be it because we are the only people left that can help these children.

If I ever turn to the administration for help with these students, this only succeeds in having them suspended or expelled from school, thus separating them from any possible help. But, on the other hand, I can't blame the administration for trying to protect the whole from the few. They are being perpetually frustrated in this cause because the state demands that they educate all of the youths of the community even if this means putting other children at risk. And if they succeed in taking away a potential danger the community is financially penalized by having them forced to educate these youths away from the community. And of course, this means a few less test tubes and one less computer.

The day ends like it began with the students displaying the same amounts of energy they showed when they arrived. I look around my room and see various pieces of crushed paper on the floor and in the desks. I know I can't dally because I must clean the room and set up the chairs so the janitors can sweep the room. Sometimes I have a faculty meeting or a department meeting which as of late discusses the deep cuts in equipment, supplies, and of course salaries. School Boards across the state and the country exclaim that the towns can no longer budget any more money into education. Their are more important things that the towns must budget for. There just isn't any more money.

On many occasions the meetings make me late for my afternoon job which means my young supervisor will warn me that he can no longer put up with my tardiness. He doesn't understand why I can't leave, as he puts it, my part time job and get to this higher paying job on time. After all, I am only a teacher.

As I finish cleaning my room and the last of my students leave from extra help, one of my students enters and explains that what I taught her about biological relationships between young men and women made a decision that she had to make easier. As she was leaving my room she turned around and thanked me for being a teacher; her teacher.

I had a great day .....