Thoughts on Job Action from a New Teacher
On Wednesday night, when I told my sister the results of the strike vote (an overwhelming 86% in favour of full strike action), she asked me if this was what I wanted. My answer was not a simple yes or no. I want to come to school and work with my crazy 8th graders every day. I want to see the light in their eyes when they understand a difficult concept for the first time. I want to help them learn what they are capable of and help them develop their creativity. I want enough prep time to create awesome and engaging lessons so that my students can see how much fun learning can be. I want to have time to help out students who want to go over difficult concepts one on one. I want a school environment where my students have the support they need when they need it, whether that be counsellors, special education teachers or simply just a quiet place to work when the classroom becomes too much. I want a classroom situation where I can spend time connecting with every student every day. I want a work environment that allows me to be the teacher they deserve to have. The strike is not what I want, but it is what I voted for.
I voted for it because honestly, most of the things I want for my students are not happening.
I'm a new teacher, and I love my job; becoming a teacher was my dream and every day I am happy and excited to go to work. This has been a very challenging year for me though. I primarily teach Grade 8, and when I arrived for my first day of work in September I was informed that this group was “the worst the district has seen in 20 years.” Always a reassuring way to start the year. I am lucky that my class is only 25 students, a relatively small class size for BC standards. The composition of my class is not as fortunate though. Of my 25 students, there are six kids with behavioural and/or emotional IEPs (this covers things like ADHD, FAS and clinical depression) and three students with academic and/or intellectual IEPs (things like dyslexia, learning disabilities, etc). In addition to this, roughly half my students live below the poverty line and several are ELL (English language learners). There are also a myriad of other things going on in many of their lives that I can only guess at, and sometimes school is just not a priority for them.
This composition of students is challenging for everyone involved. For my students this composition means that they never get enough support. As a teacher, trying to meet so many diverse student needs is exhausting and sometimes almost impossible. I'd love to connect with each of them every class to check in with how they are doing. But the fact is the students who need extra support and instruction need more than just a couple of minutes, and unfortunately, with over half my class needing this level of support a few minutes is the best I can do. Meanwhile, the students who don't need extra support often end up working entirely on their own while I try to balance everything that is going on in the room. I am constantly trying out new ideas and techniques in order to make learning accessible for all my students, and I am lucky to have a fabulous SEA who does an amazing job to improve this situation during one of the blocks, but still I always feel like I need to do more.
In addition to their academic needs, it breaks my heart to know that many of their emotional needs are going unmet as well. Many of my students come to school hungry, and our breakfast and lunch programs struggle to get the funding they need to feed as many students as they do. Meanwhile we have less than 30 minutes of counselling time available each day, so students suffering from depression, being bullied or dealing with other challenges often don't have qualified support available when they need it. These problems frequently spill over into the classroom, and I do what I can to help my students in every way possible, but I also know that it's not enough. Shortly before spring break, one of my thirteen year old students dropped out. His teachers, myself included, tried everything we could think of to convince him to stay, but the challenges he was facing academically and outside of school proved to be too overwhelming for him to overcome without a significant increase in the emotional and academic support he was already receiving. The day he officially decided to stop coming to school was the saddest day in my career. I felt like I had failed. I knew there was nothing else I could do for him but leave the door open in case he changed his mind. That day was the first time I really realized how much our educational system needed to improve.
I've been in the classroom for almost a year and a half, and in that time I have taught nine subjects and eleven different courses. I have never taught the same course twice. Currently I teach Grade 8 Math, Science and French and a cultural studies elective. None of these courses are even remotely close to my original specialization in English. This means I have a ton of prep to do every day. Every lesson, worksheet, project and test has to be developed from scratch. I also spend a good amount of time studying the course material to re-familiarize myself with the content, and additional university level material so I can answer questions that might come up. In addition to this, my cultural studies course is a locally developed class meaning that I also have to develop the curriculum and report on the strengths and weaknesses of the class.
Most days I arrive at school about 30 to 45 minutes before the bell. I use this time to go over my lesson plans, review the material and set up my classroom. I spend my hour of prep time creating resources for my classroom, meeting with other teachers to collaborate, arranging guest speakers and field trips and prepping labs. At lunch I complete tasks from my “non-essential” to do list; developing seating plans, changing the displays in my classroom, creating example projects. Plus I help any students who happen to show up with questions. After school I normally stay for about an hour and a half during which time I mark student work, reply to emails, put together progress reports, tweak my lesson plans, etc. And then at home in the evening I will spend an hour or two studying future course material, marking more work and developing future lesson plans. In addition to this I was an assistant coach for the senior girls’ volleyball team (which practiced four days a week during the fall) and the director and chaperone of the schools travelling drama team (which rehearsed five days a week during the winter and spring). By doing all this (and spending a good chunk of time on the weekend completing everything that didn't get done during the week), I am able to just manage to stay on top of everything. I can create lessons I am proud of and that engage my students. I can return their work to them quickly and continually update them on their progress in the course. I can provide them with the learning experience they deserve to have.
At the moment, however, I cannot do all this because I am “locked out” of my classroom. I can spend exactly an hour and a half of time, outside my prep block, working. Whatever cannot be completed in that time doesn't get completed. This is a difficult situation for all teachers. It is disheartening to have a student come in for help at lunch and have to tell them you can't work with them during that time. It's difficult to stay on top of marking and planning, in such a narrow window of time. But for a new teacher it is impossible. I am existing in survival mode, getting enough done each day to get me through the next one. My lessons are sufficient but not as creative or exciting or dynamic as they once were. As much as possible I avoid using worksheets or self-developed projects because I don't have time to create them. My pile of marking has grown into a small mountain, and with less than two weeks of scheduled classes left I have to decide what gets marked and what doesn't.
When I get home from school most days I am exhausted and frustrated. This is without a doubt the most stressed I have ever been in my life. It is more stressful than my IB exams in high school, than double majoring during my undergrad, than both my practicums, than any job interview I've ever been on. I have been angry and I have cried. Because it truly sucks to want to do the best job possible, but to be prevented from doing it. Because even though my students are only in Grade 8, I worry about the impact of every part of this job action. Because it’s horrible to be villainized by your own government and the press for standing up for my students and myself.
Which brings me back to the beginning. I don't want job action or striking, and I don't like it. But I voted for it and as much as I don't like it, I support it. Because I believe my students deserve the best educational experience possible, and they are not getting it. They deserve a full time librarian (our library is only open two days a week), and a full time counsellor (instead of less than 30 minutes of counselling a day), and specialist teachers (no fine arts programs for them this year), and more support teachers. They deserve to have amazing and engaging lessons every day in every class. They deserve to be able to seek help after school. And teachers deserve to be respected by their government, to have the prep time they need to be the best teacher possible, to have a classroom environment that facilitates learning rather than impeding it. And so I will continue to stand up for those beliefs, in spite of any financial or emotional difficulties that it may bring. I teach my students to stand up for what they believe in, and I will do the same.
Over the past ten months I have watched my Grade 8's go from being the class from hell, that the entire school was talking about (and not in a good way), to an awesome group of students. I have seen them grow and mature into some pretty cool human beings. They are hilarious (intentionally and unintentionally), incredibly creative and resourceful, and fun to be around. Sure, there are still days when they drive me a little insane, and there are certainly still a lot of obstacles for them to overcome, but overall I have loved being their teacher. It breaks my heart that after ten months together today might have be the last time I see them. But in the end, I will continue to stand up for them and for this profession in the hopes of a better future for all of us.