The purpose of this blog on a very basic level is to celebrate—and chronicle—my 25th and final year of teaching in a public high school. After 24 years of trying to demonstrate the beauty of the English language to 9th through 12th graders, I’m finally hanging it up at the end of the 2010-2011 school year.
On a much deeper level, though, I hope to use this blog to generate a discussion about issues facing public education and, even more, to offer a glimpse of what we as teachers experience from the inside of the profession to readers whose only experience with public education, really, is that they went to school. I became aware very early on in my career that I had chosen one of those “mystery” professions which can only be truly understood from the inside; policemen, firefighters, and nurses are among those who will understand what I mean by this. Indeed, most professions are like this to some degree, but there are several things that set teaching apart from any other profession.
My plan is to post daily (every school day, at least) throughout the year. I’m sure there will be days that I’ll miss, for one reason or another. But that’s the plan, anyway. I welcome comments from anyone who can contribute to this discussion.
To provide a bit of context through which to view my comments, I probably should provide at least a brief biography. I came to teaching somewhat late, having started college when I was 27. It took me that long to figure out that this is what I wanted to do. I have taught at the same high school for my entire career. The school district has only one high school, one middle school, and three elementary schools. We are a rural district, although the community in which I teach is known to be a satellite community—a “bedroom” community, if you will—of a much larger city nearby (where, as it happens, I reside). We are located in the mountains of Colorado. I spent my first ten years as the “new” language arts teacher, since there was no turnover in my department. During this time I learned the ropes of my profession and found myself in the position of being the “at risk” teacher; for whatever reason, students who either had learning difficulties or behavioral problems (or both) responded to my teaching style, so our Special Education and Alternative Education teachers typically enrolled their students in my classes. I taught mostly freshman and sophomore courses during those years. Then, as some of my colleagues retired or moved to other districts, I sort of looked up and realized I was no longer the new kid in the department. A huge change in the direction of my career came when our longtime department head, one of the most respected and dedicated teachers I have ever known, indicated to me that she was a year away from retiring and wanted me to take over her position—not as department head, but as the head of the Honors English program. Throwing my protestations aside (truthfully, I was afraid that those “smart kids” would know more about my subject than I did!), she spent her final year team-teaching two Junior Honors English classes with me. In my first year after her departure, I taught—terrified as I was—our school’s very first AP class of any kind. We now have many AP classes, but I continue to teach the Senior AP English Literature & Composition class. A couple of years ago, I realized that I have seniority over everyone in my department—indeed, third-most seniority in the school—and have somehow achieved what I laughingly (and with no small degree of astonishment) refer to as a sort of Yoda status to some of my colleagues. I have never aspired to be anything more than a teacher, and I have always tried to avoid—mostly with success—the inevitable politics that exist in every school in every district. Other than Teacher of the Year at our high school one year, I have never received any awards for my teaching; but I appear to have won over my students, as they have voted me to be their keynote speaker at graduation eight times over the years—the greatest honor I could ever receive. And, to date, I am in contact with over 700 of them through the magic of Facebook, and that number grows every week. Oh, and my Master’s degree is in teaching the Humanities.
So—why should anyone pay any attention to what I have to say about public education today? After all, I’m just a teacher—a professional educator—and not an administrator or a politician or a businessman or an entrepreneur who studies education for the purpose of making money from it. And that’s why what I say should carry more weight than what any of those others will tell you. I have no other agenda. I am just a teacher—one who has spent over 180 days a year with your teenagers for the last twenty-four years. This above all makes me inherently better qualified to comment on the issues facing public education than an army of administrators or politicians. Given the high level of scrutiny under which public education is held, and given the high level in which politics—from the local level to the feds—influence trends in public education, I hope to shed some light on what really goes on in this crucial profession, from the trenches, so to speak. For it seems to me that there’s a lot being said about education, a lot of questions being asked, a lot of charges being leveled, and a lot of general hysteria being generated; but when it comes to trying to figure out what’s best for our kids, the ones being left out of the discussion most often are those who are best qualified to contribute the most to it—the teachers. So maybe this blog will serve to provide a different perspective on what goes on in classrooms all over the United States, one that will not only provide a view of the problems we face, but to share glimpses of the enormous victories that too often go uncelebrated; and maybe along the way, we can shatter a few terribly misinformed (but, of course, politically convenient) myths that have evolved about public education.
Tomorrow: Myths? What Myths?