I was riding with my dad today on a several-hours-long trip and trying to explain why I am fervently hoping this will be my last year teaching public school in a rural, Title 1 high school (year 31). Being eligible to retire and being able to retire are not the same thing, unfortunately.
First, back in the day, the students who made it to graduation were, for the most part, the cream of the crop. This was so because approximately 20-30% of the student population dropped out along the way. Yes, there were academically competent students who had to drop out for financial reasons to help support their families, but the majority of those who left school did so because they weren’t interested, were determined not to be interested, or were unable to keep up academically, and they mostly went to work at what (then) were sometimes decent-paying manufacturing or other jobs. These days, schools keep most of those students. Teachers spend a great deal of time and effort trying to bring up the lower third to acceptable standards and the upper third (the ones who might be discovering the cures for cancer) are essentially not academically challenged, but pass because they are “good enough” for the standardized tests – and the SAT was “scaled” some years ago to make declining scores less obvious, too.
Second, many schools transitioned to alternative scheduling, primarily block scheduling in the 90’s. Instead of eight classes taught for 180 days, students frequently now have four classes taught for a double-length time in 90 days. That sounds like it is the same thing, right? Six of one or half a dozen of the other, right? Not so much. Back in the day when this new innovation was introduced, teachers went through extensive professional development to learn how to teach on that schedule, or two classes in one day. In this modern era of block scheduling, too frequently, it has translated into 90 single class days, and students are getting roughly half of what they previously covered, back in the day, in 180 days. That isn’t helping the learning curve.
In addition, many school systems have virtually removed a student’s ability to fail. Teachers are being commanded by administration to award 50 points (or more) for zero academic effort. The last time I checked, breathing wasn’t an academic activity. Half credit, or more – for nothing, no effort, no learning. Some systems absolutely will not retain a student grades pre-K through grade 8, regardless of educational attainment, or lack thereof. The students are just promoted each and every year.
That’s NINE YEARS of dedicated learning that they do not have to learn what their teachers are teaching, because they will be promoted anyway. And then, at age 15 (approximately) they come to the 9th grade in high school and all of that laissez faire schooling comes to a screeching halt. Now, for the first time EVER, they are expected to actually earn credit and pass a course of instruction, often accompanied by state-mandated content exams at course final assessment that count a significant percentage of their course average academic grade. AND most of them arrive several grade levels behind where they should be in skills – that I, as a ninth grade teacher, am expected to “catch up” for them. . . . in five months on a block schedule.
And dad’s eyebrows kept climbing higher and higher as the list went on. His sideways glances at me got softer and sadder as the story unfolded.
I do not believe that our public schools are now working to create decent employees, citizens, or humans. I don’t believe in what I am doing as a part of education any longer. Yes, it is time for me not to be a teacher any longer. I can’t keep doing what I no longer believe is helping make better humans. And COVID-19 has added the last nails to that coffin. Because I am a dedicated teacher and I do my level best every day to catch up and accelerate the students who are assigned to me to teach, I was again this year nominated for Teacher of the Year. Again, I declined to participate. One new reason this year not to participate is that the application asks me to disclose all my social media accounts so that they can check up on what I’m posting, and I am far too honest to ever seriously be considered a model teacher who might be chosen for Teacher of the Year.
Dirtdaubber Wasp 