176 days in

The school year is like the baseball season - it seemingly goes on forever. And also like baseball, the significance of any one day or game really seems fairly meaningless. It's in the day to day routine of working on the skills or standards as we call them, the patient but confident building of abilities and molding of character that things happen. As a teacher now for a while and a pastor for much longer, I've learned the routines and accepted them.

When a batter is in a slump, one of the first things he does is to go back and watch film of when he was in the groove. If it's a really bad slump, he might even reach out to an old coach. I've read of stars who were struggling calling in high school coaches.

When a teacher can't reach a student, they do check to see if they are teaching the fundamentals well. They examine their interactions with the child, and talk with others who interact as well. They try other approaches. They seek to find a motivating tool to use to get the student to perform in a way that will help them grow.

176 days in, after doing all of that and much more, after being at the point of frustration many many times, I think it happened.

I was hugged by a nine year old boy.

He's so very bright. I have never had a child who has asked so many questions that were worthy of adult conversations. Of course most all of those occurred when we were discussing something else, but...

Yet he is always on his own path, that only occasionally coincides with what all the adults who want desperately to see him grow have planned.

But Friday, after a typical day of trying to encourage him to persevere in doing his best and finding him doing far less, we had a conversation. Nothing unusual on my side - another try at getting him to see that if he'd set his sights on a goal and work hard until he got there, all the adults who care so much about him would not only rejoice in a way the heavens would hear, but he would find that all the structures we've constructed to keep him in line would fall away, like training wheels taken off a bicycle do once the skills are mastered.

He listened and went back to work.

Then right before he left, he came up to my side and gave me a hug before he left.

176 days in.

Teaching...

It made me wonder... "Lord Jesus, how in the world do you put up with us?"

We're headed for a breakdown

The last school year - It was the hardest 9 months of my life.

There were times I came as close to quitting as anyone possibly could. Emotionally, physically (working 80 hours a week wears you down), and mentally - the grind of trying to motivate, inspire, correct and yes teach was exhausting.

The pay is laughable. Praise or encouragement is hard to come by. The system is set up to beat you down, not build you up. Don't believe me? One of the best teachers I have ever seen did not receive a "Highly Effective" rating because she didn't preempt a student's misbehavior during an evaluation. Oh she dealt with it, but to he highly effective she needs some version of that "Inception" scope. Others reported that on one visit what they did was rated unsatisfactory and on another the same techniques were rated effective. Teachers who had taught for years effectively were genuinely concerned they might be let go. It's a new system and I know it'll get better, but it was tough.

Coming from outside and knowing nothing about what teaching really was, I got through by prayers - my own and those of others for me, by my wife's unconditional support, and by help from my colleagues.

Some of that help came from two veterans - Edie Smith, a gentle soul who taught 4th grade Math and Science, and Hal Tihart, who was the only other male classroom teacher (he taught third grade). I went to them for insight, for understanding, for direction. And each in their own way was a huge help. Both went out of their way to try to get a first year teacher through the crucible. They have my thanks, and my undying respect for what they gave to me, and what they have given to hundreds of students.

They both retired last week, victims of the changes that have come to the classroom. Neither would have left on their own. I know that because I heard it from them firsthand.

Between them they had decades of experience. And they loved teaching kids.

We're losing people in droves who remember what education really is. 

There's a breakdown coming.

Don't misunderstand me. I love teaching and am leaning forward as the winds of change blow. In many ways I'm running out front of the changes to use today's tools to help today's kids learn and grow.

But we need people who have seen these winds come and go and know what will work and what won't. We need folks who have the essence of teaching down so well that they can go where the needs are and teach whatever they need to teach. Who love the classroom and focus on seeing kids becoming what they were created to be. Who aren't interested in looking cool or being the kids' friends.

We need people who consider teaching a calling, not a job.

My fear is that they will be replaced by people on their way somewhere else. Who'll see teaching as a step on the way to other goals. Who aren't interested in investing decades of their lives to change society one child at a time.

I'll be praying I'm wrong. Please pray for those who teach.

My Next Book To Read

One of the things I have loved about my dive into elementary education has been the rediscovery of children's books. I LOVE THEM! Since it's been a while since Sean was listening to me or Bunny read to him, and since no other munchkins are around us much, I haven't had a chance to read anything other than adult materials. But now that I'm back into the lives of children, I get to read some awesome books. I think "What Are You So Grumpy About?" by Tom Lichtenheld will prove to be one of them

Well, this one may be helpful not just for the child, but for the adult who reads it to them.

And particularly for crabby folks like me. 

The author writes: "Every day can be a good day if you know what you are grumpy about." Know your problem. That seems to be wise counsel. Then the appendix lists "Sure cures for grumpiness." $11.19 sure seems cheaper than anger management therapy. :) Just looking at the illustrations makes me smile. For teachers, there is a pdf available with ideas for using the book in the classroom that got me excited just thinking about the kid's reactions. The author believes that telling a good story with a moral lesson woven in it is the key to reaching kids. 

“… any ‘moral’ in my books is the by-product of an interesting story. My goal is to do books that kids are naturally attracted to, because kids can sniff-out a lecture a mile away and it sends them running. So, I try not to do books that are blatantly message-driven.” 

For children of all ages (including crabby pastors), this book seems like a winner. 

The Minority Report

I've never been a minority before... in a big way I mean. Everyone feels like they are at times - I've been the only kid with asthma and allergies back in 4th grade, or that kid that lives in the country, even the kid with all 64 Crayolas. Not really much of a minority report, is it?

But in every class of teaching, I'm a minority.

Because I'm a man.

In one class last Saturday, I was it. In two more, there were two of us. Out of two dozen or so.

The number of men teachers has been dropping steadily for years. Right now it's less than 9% in elementary education and a bit more in secondary.

I don't get it. ABC did a study a couple years ago and listed these reasons why men shy away from teaching.


"The first reason is stereotypes. People believe men aren't nurturing. The second reason is fear of accusations of abuse. People are afraid men are going to harm children. And the third reason is low status, low pay," Brian Nelson of Menteach.org said.


So abandoning the profession - what has that done?


Left a hole.


"Children are no dummies," says Nelson. "When they see no men in a school, they get a message. And that message is that men don't care or men don't belong here."


Well I think they do. Men matter. The great female teachers I have met realize that too. One of them told me "we need more male teachers" this week although when I told her I wanted to teach 4th or 5th grade, she said (being a 5th grade teacher) "Well you can't have my job." LOL


I don't know how you change this, especially with the changes education is undergoing right now. While education used to be a profession appreciated by the average American, for whatever reason it doesn't seem to be so now. Whether it's about unions, tenure or whatever, I think America will return to appreciation for teachers. But the low starting salary and uncertain future may continue to make men shy away from choosing education as a career. That will be America's loss.


Men matter.

What you need to know about teachers in Florida

 Over the last few months, I have learned a lot I did not know about teaching today. My education about education comes just as the profession seems to be under attack. I can tell you first hand that what this teacher has written seems to be the feelings of many, many people who have given their lives to educate our young people. It's a HARD job, and the rewards mostly come from seeing a child "get it" and knowing you helped them do that. Please pray for the teachers everywhere.


A Teacher in Florida by Jamee Cagle Miller
2008 Seminole County Teacher of the Year
She has also been featured as the Orlando Sentinel's Teacher of the Week and chosen as Evans Elementary Teacher of the Month. Cagle graduated summa cum laude for both of her education degrees from UF: a bachelor's in elementary education in 2001 and a master's in 2002 in education technology. 

I am a Teacher in Florida.

I rise before dawn each day and find myself nestled in my classroom hours before the morning commute is in full swing in downtown Orlando. I scour the web along with countless other resources to create meaningful learning experiences for my 24 students each day. I reflect on the successes of lessons taught and re-work ideas until I feel confident that they will meet the needs of my diverse learners. I have finished my third cup of coffee in my classroom before the business world has stirred. My contracted hours begin at 7:30 and end at 3:00. As the sun sets around me and people are beginning to enjoy their dinner, I lock my classroom door, having worked 4 hours unpaid.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I greet the smiling faces of my students and am reminded anew of their challenges, struggles, successes, failures, quirks, and needs. I review their 504s, their IEPs, their PMPs, their histories trying to reach them from every angle possible. They come in hungry—I feed them. They come in angry—I counsel them. They come in defeated—I encourage them. And this is all before the bell rings.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I am told that every student in my realm must score on or above grade level on the FCAT each year. Never mind their learning discrepancies, their unstable home lives, their prior learning experiences. In the spring, they are all assessed with one measure and if they don’t fit, I have failed. Students walk through my doors reading at a second grade level and by year’s end can independently read and comprehend early 4th grade texts, but this is no matter. One of my students has already missed 30 days of school this year, but this is overlooked. If they don’t show this on ONE the test in early March, their learning gains are irrelevant. They didn’t learn enough. They didn’t grow enough. I failed them. In the three months that remain in the school year after this test, I am expected to begin teaching 5th grade curriculum to my 4th grade students so that they are prepared for next year’s test.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I am expected to create a culture of students who will go on to become the leaders of our world. When they exit my classroom, they should be fully equipped to compete academically on a global scale. They must be exposed to different worldviews and diverse perspectives, and yet, most of my students have never left Sanford, Florida. Field trips are now frivolous. I must provide new learning opportunities for them without leaving the four walls of our classroom. So I plan. I generate new ways to expose them to life beyond their neighborhoods through online exploration and digital field trips. I stay up past The Tonight Show to put together a unit that will allow them to experience St. Augustine without getting on a bus. I spend weekends taking pictures and creating a virtual world for them to experience, since the State has determined it is no longer worthwhile for them to explore reality. Yes. My students must be prepared to work within diverse communities, and yet they are not afforded the right to ever experience life beyond their own town.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I accepted a lower salary with the promise of a small increase for every year taught. I watched my friends with less education than me sign on for six figure jobs while I embraced my $28k starting salary. I was assured as I signed my contract that although it was meager to start, my salary would consistently grow each year. That promise has been broken. I’m still working with a meager salary, and the steps that were contracted to me when I accepted a lower salary are now deemed “unnecessary.”

I am a teacher in Florida.

I spent $2500 in my first year alone to outfit an empty room so that it would promote creative thinking and a desire to learn and explore. I now average between $1000-2000 that I pay personally to supplement the learning experiences that take place in my classroom. I print at home on my personal printer and have burned through 12 ink cartridges this school year alone. I purchase the school supplies my students do not have. I buy authentic literature so my students can be exposed to authors and worlds beyond their textbooks. I am required to teach Social Studies and Writing without any curriculum/materials provided, so I purchase them myself. I am required to conduct Science lab without Science materials, so I buy those, too. The budgeting process has determined that copies of classroom materials are too costly, so I resort to paying for my copies at Staples, refusing to compromise my students’ education because high-ranking officials are making inappropriate cuts. It is February, and my entire class is out of glue sticks. Since I have already spent the $74 allotted to me for warehouse supplies, if I don’t buy more, we will not have glue for the remainder of the year. The projects I dream up are limited by the incomprehensible lack of financial support. I am expected to inspire my students to become lifelong learners, and yet we don’t have the resources needed to nurture their natural sense of wonder if I don’t purchase them myself. My meager earning is now pathetic after the expenses that come with teaching effectively.

I am a teacher in Florida.

The government has scolded me for failing to prepare my students to compete in this technologically driven world. Students in Japan are much more equipped to think progressively with regards to technology. Each day, I turn on the two computers afforded me and pray for a miracle. I apply for grants to gain new access to technology and compete with thousands of other teachers who are hoping for the same opportunity. I battle for the right to use the computer lab and feel fortunate if my students get to see it once a week. Why don’t they know how to use technology? The system’s budget refuses to include adequate technology in classrooms; instead, we are continually told that dry erase boards and overhead projectors are more than enough.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I am expected to differentiate my instruction to meet the needs of my 24 learners. Their IQs span 65 points, and I must account for every shade of gray. I must challenge those above grade level, and I must remediate those below. I am but one person within the classroom, but I must meet the needs of every learner. I generate alternate assessments to accommodate for these differences. My higher math students receive challenge work, and my lower math students receive one-on-one instruction. I create most of these resources myself, after-hours and on weekends. I print these resources so that every child in my room has access to the same knowledge, delivered at their specific level. Yesterday, the school printer that I share with another teacher ran out of ink. Now I must either purchase a new ink cartridge for $120, or I cannot print anything from my computer for the remainder of the year. What choice am I left with?

I am a teacher in Florida.

I went to school at one of the best universities in the country and completed undergraduate and graduate programs in Education. I am a master of my craft. I know what effective teaching entails, and I know how to manage the curriculum and needs of the diverse learners in my full inclusion classroom. I graduated at the top of my class and entered my first year of teaching confident and equipped to teach effectively. Sadly, I am now being micro-managed, with my instruction dictated to me. I am expected to mold “out-of-the-box” thinkers while I am forced to stay within the lines of the instructional plans mandated by policy-makers. I am told what I am to teach and when, regardless of the makeup of my students, by decision-makers far away from my classroom or even my school. The message comes in loud and clear that a group of people in business suits can more effectively determine how to provide exemplary instruction than I can. My expertise is waved away, disregarded, and overlooked. I am treated like a day-laborer, required to follow the steps mapped out for me, rather than blaze a trail that I deem more appropriate and effective for my students—students these decision-makers have never met.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I am overworked, underpaid, and unappreciated by most. I spend my weekends, my vacations, and my summers preparing for school, and I constantly work to improve my teaching to meet the needs of my students. I am being required to do more and more, and I’m being compensated less and less.

I am a teacher in Florida, not for the pay or the hardships, the disregard or the disrespect; I am a teacher in Florida because I am given the chance to change lives for the good, to educate and elevate the minds and hearts of my students, and to show them that success comes in all shapes and sizes, both in the classroom and in the community.

I am a teacher in Florida today, but as I watch many of my incredible, devoted coworkers being forced out of the profession as a matter of survival, I wonder: How long will I be able to remain a teacher in Florida?