The End

As a teacher who will be leaving the education realm this year for the second time (the first time was 30 years ago....) I have to add this caveat: Don't stay too long at the dance. Many times, humans seek to adapt and put up with situations for far too long under the hope things will get better. Barring an act of God or a complete change in the personnel, they usually won't. I have stayed far longer at this job than I had planned and while the money did help keep us out of the poorhouse during the eight years our economy was in failure mode, for which I am grateful, I feel that much of the last five years has been more about paperwork, corralling special needs students and being volun-told to take on more responsibilities than I could reasonably handle.

I hate to sound bitter-I was the teacher who tried to make things better by decorating the workroom, bringing holiday treats and remembering birthdays. But in the end, it simply didn't matter because whatever small measures I took were overwhelmed by the general culture infesting my school. After 20 years, I am leaving. Retiring from teaching, but not from work, because who can afford that? What is more, while our school likes to make a big production out of the teachers who are leaving, I don't want to even be there for that stuff, because honestly for all the years I've been there, all the kids I've taught, all the sacrifices I've made, I honestly don't think anyone will care.

The drumbeat message from my administration is "This is JUST ART" and Just Art is a class for the kids who fight with band directors, who have failed other classes or who simply need a placeholder class until something better comes along. I've tried very hard for a long time to change that and I wish I could have had some impact, but frankly when you stay too long, you get taken for granted. I wish art jobs were easier to come by because I truly am good at my job and have kids who have graduated from top level art schools like RISD and SAIC who began in my class. But I'm exhausted and I've simply run out of ways to capture the attention. The straw that broke my heart not my back, was last week when two teenaged boys squared off to fight in my class. I marched them to the office and asked they be dealt with. Twenty minutes later, an AP shows up with the boys, saying they had received restorative measures and were really really sorry. This has become the norm in my so-called "good" suburban school. So heed my warning and avoid ending up like me.