The last three days have been intense. I’ve been running around along with C, my cooperating teacher, trying to get Dodge Middle School — and more specifically, the 8th grade Language Arts class — ready for the new school year that begins August 11th. We’ll see how much it effects my writing, although I can’t completely stop; I’m also currently trying to get my grad. packet together so I can apply for the Creative Writing MFA program at the University of Arizona (another day I’ll post on why I want to have an MFA in Creative Writing, which now the reason of “to improve my writing” is only one reason, and not an all together big one).

Even in just three days, I’ve learned a lot. It’s an eye-opening experience. For example, I never knew how many hours teachers put in, in Arizona, unpaid. C was talking about working out the curriculum, including doing research on new vocabulary books (because she said that’s where the kids had most difficulty last year) in the summer; and then because a lot of our precious planning time was taken up by unnecessary “pep rallies” (as I called them. The district called them “inspirational speeches”) that required commuting and sitting and listening to for hours on two of the three days we had to plan and because we came back to computers that didn’t work and a score of other small, but crippling, problems she didn’t get everything done anyway. As a result, she said she’d have to come in on Saturday to finish. When I commented on how surprised I was just how many unpaid hours she’s putting in, she shook her head and said, “The district knows we’ll work for free, I think they’re testing to see how much free work they can get off us. We’re not going to stand in front of students on Monday with nothing, after all!”* She then added that many weeks, with grading (also on her own time), she puts in 60 hour work weeks. She ironically smiled and added that if one did the math of hours to pay, she was sometimes earning less than minimum wage.

I thought, I had better like this profession or I am fucking screwed.

Perhaps the worse thing was that we worked Wednesday and Thursday without any air conditioning, without working computers, and with a score of other problems. No A/C was the worst because it was also really humid in Dodge, so by the time I came home I was drenched in sweat and exhausted. I skipped out on the gym both days, I just couldn’t deal with more sweating. And there I was trying to look professional, but I probably looked like a drowned rat.

* A friend of mine and John’s, who works at University High School, came back to his room a week early because he was told his room would not be ready on time (by ready I mean cleaned) so he had to do it all himself. Which is when he noticed the closet was full with someone else’s things. He got the custodians to come move it, but whoever had put it there had also taken away the shelves of his closet to make room for the mystery junk! As a result, he spent three days buying wood from Home Depot and putting in shelves because no one else would do it!

1:02 pm | Category: Journal, Teaching | | No Comments