Skip to main content

A Warning in Dreams

Around this time last year, I remember getting excited about the upcoming school year. I was starting my second year as a teacher: I was hungry to implement ideas I'd thought about over the summer. I was eager to consider taking a different approach with certain topics. I was excited.

I'm excited for next year as well, but I'm also a little uneasy: in the last four nights, I've had the same dream, twice. I rarely dream, so dreaming the exact same thing twice is a new experience.

In my dream, I was back in the classroom during my third year, but things were very different. I was finding it hard to enjoy being in the classroom because my school's administration was making life difficult for me. Some of them were minor things, some of them were major things that really bothered me.

From what I recall, I was no longer allowed to teach my personal finance course. Why? Because the kids don't really "need" this course on paper. Why would kids need to learn about saving, credit cards, and long-term retirement investment? Ultimately it's about credit accumulation and most kids did not need this course. What does "need" mean, anyway? That made me unhappy.

In June, we were told we were getting new desks and that we should label our old desks with "THROW AWAY" for the custodians to take out during the summer. We were told to do this several times throughout the last few days, as if using the old desk wasn't an option. Here's the thing, I like my old desk, so I didn't mark it for removal. Logically, it just didn't make sense to me. Why is it a big deal to throw away an old desk? Especially since it's so conducive to organization with five side drawers (three on one side, two on the other) and one middle pull-out drawer (heh, I said "pull-out") for writing utensil storage. Doesn't that sound sexy?

In my dream, when I came back into the classroom, they had replaced my desk with a new brown desk, which was actually pretty nice looking, but it had no fucking drawers!

I am very particular about my things and especially how my things are organized. This new desk did not please me in my dreams. But, I was going to be okay.

As my dream progressed, I felt like I was teaching in Orwellian times at my school. The teachers were talking to each other in secret. Everything they did, they did by the book to cover their ass. Fill out paper work, avoid human contact with the administration. Nobody wanted to argue about an error in a student's schedule because that was now an administrative issue. It didn't matter that the kid's schedule was going to screw him over in the long run. There was an "us" vs. "them" mentality at my school, and I hated this poisonous culture.

Then I woke up.

I sort of know why I've been having these dreams: my school's culture has been deteriorating over the past year. I'm scared it's only going to get worse next year. Things were very different when this school opened: there was not one teacher who didn't come in early or stay super late to work. The staff worked their asses off and we enjoyed a collegial and open working environment.

I believe when employees are happy doing what they're doing while being in a supportive culture, great things can happen and money becomes less of an issue. That's what my first year was like, and I'm not so sure I can expect that next year.
Labels:

Comments

Anonymous said…
I've got the same feeling at my school...
July 28, 2011 at 8:50 AM
Mr. and Miss When you are really a teacher, you don't have a last name. said…
That dream you are describing sounds very real to me.

Remember how talented you are and that you do have options.

I know you'll be great, but they have NO idea how lucky they got when they took your teaching virginity.
August 9, 2011 at 4:16 PM
Yo Mista! said…
@ Ms. W:
Thanks... Yeah, I'm still a little sore...
August 9, 2011 at 4:32 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

We Need to Talk About Tenure

The idea and privilege of "tenure" in public education has garnered a lot of attention as of late. Most people who have never worked in education a single day in their lives seem to feel that tenure is unfair and teachers should work under the same expectations that other "regular" and hard-working Americans work under. At least, that's the narrative being presented in the media. Three years ago, I would have agreed, but I didn't know any better. At the college and university level,  tenure  is difficult to obtain and can take 4-8 years. Correct me if I'm wrong here, but from what I think I know, the candidate usually needs to have published some sort of research and have demonstrated a strong teaching record, among other things. Before becoming a high school teacher, I understood why tenure was necessary at the college and university level as it protected academics when they published work that went against the mainstream, and thereby prevented profes...
16 comments
Read more

The Two Brothers

Two years ago, two brothers enrolled at the alternative school where I worked. Colin and Ken, at 16 and 15 years old respectively, had just come back from spending two years in the Dominican Republic. They were now living in a foster home in the Bronx away from their birth parents. During the years they spent in the Dominican Republic, Colin and Ken were in and out of school, but mostly out, working on their family's farm as free labor. Beyond the trauma of separation  from  their birth parents, Colin and Ken experienced a significant amount of trauma  with  their birth parents. They were two teenagers who had already lived a lifetime. Silent with a dark sense of humor, Colin kept quiet during the school day during most of his first year. His entrance test scores placed him in classes at about (or slightly under) grade level. In those classes, Colin excelled. During his first year in this alternative school, Colin accumulated credits, earned rewards based on academ...
2 comments
Read more

Teach for Pakistan

I've been visiting Karachi every other year since I was six months old. My parents were both born there. The bulk of my extended family still lives there. It's strange how my perspective and investment in the country has changed over the years. I hated going to Pakistan when I was younger. My mother dragged me there for two, sometimes three months at a time over the summer. The heat was miserable and the humidity was unbearable. My family wasn't well off, so it's not like I was in a huge mansion of sorts living in the tropics, eating cold mangoes. That would've been nice. The only things I enjoyed were the company of my cousins, the food and the taste of Coca-Cola made from real sugar. Besides that, I really never did anything else. I was pretty quiet: my aunts would compliment me on my lack of communication. Heh. It was not until I was a teenager that I truly began to appreciate my experiences in Pakistan. I started engaging in the family functions, weddings an...
15 comments
Read more