A Wisconsin Teacher on Teaching After Unions
by Abe Sauer
Last week Wisconsin legislators voted to eliminate collective bargaining for public employees, including teachers. I spoke with one 20-something Wisconsin teacher about the new public service landscape and what it now means to be a teacher. Given how Governor Walker’s uninvited use of teacher Megan Sampson’s story made her a chit to be exploited in the public debate, Kathryn has asked her last name not be used. The answers are unedited.
The Awl: What do you teach?
Kathryn: High School English.
The Awl: How long have you been teaching?
Kathryn: 6 years.
The Awl: How does the loss of union rights make you feel about your profession?
Kathryn: The potential loss of collective bargaining rights is — as an adult professional — both scary and insulting. Like so many of my colleagues, I pay my annual union dues not because I agree with everything the union stands for, but because I appreciate that the teacher’s union can help safeguard some of the working conditions that make it possible for students to get the best education possible. So as a teacher — someone who cares deeply about her students — the potential loss of collective bargaining rights (in conjunction with several of Walker’s larger budget proposals) has me outraged.
As a teacher whose husband works in the private sector, I try to keep an open mind about how “outsiders” perceive the teaching profession. There is some merit, I suppose, to the arguments that teachers deserve cuts because they only work nine months a year, and have pretty appealing benefits for working in a profession that doesn’t “immediately affect public safety and well-being” — something I hear so often. However, as a teacher, I work seven days a week (averaging 10–12 hours a day) to ensure that my students are exposed to relevant, rigorous and engaging lesson plans and substantive qualitative and quantitative feedback. In addition, my summer breaks are always consumed with courses, workshops, trainings and professional development (that I pay for) in order to improve my teaching skills. When I graduate with my masters degree in Education this Spring, I will enroll in another graduate level program to earn another certification in order to remain marketable in a job where contract renewal is rather tenuous. The vast majority of the time, I come home feeling like I have made a positive impact on the lives of young people; this, not the benefits, is why I went into teaching. It’s an indescribable feeling, how much I love my job. I don’t think that I can put it into words; I don’t know many teachers that can. But I wish that more parents and community members would take advantage of my open invitation to visit my classroom. Just as I would never make assumptions about another’s profession, I contend that it is a sign of ignorance for anyone to make judgments about the quality and value of my profession unless they truly have an understanding of the pedagogical and personal skills I utilize every day.
The Awl: Does the loss of collective bargaining rights, or the current opinions on teachers, make you want to not try as hard?
Kathryn: Tough question. For better or worse, I am a perfectionist. I carefully craft each detail of a lesson plan so as to avoid student confusion and maximize engagement upon delivery. I will often agonize over how to offer feedback on student writing in a way that is critical, solution-oriented and encouraging. I can’t see that part of my personality changing. However, if the loss of collective bargaining rights leads to increased class sizes and a decrease in teacher preparation time, then, yes, the quality of my work will suffer. I simply will not have the time — no matter how efficient I become — to offer intensive feedback on student work or conduct research to develop cutting-edge lesson plans. I will feel forced to turn to the textbook teaching that I have always shied away from.
The Awl: Does this change whether or not you would recommend the profession to younger students or even your own children?
Kathryn: My parents were both teachers. They supported my own interest in teaching, but were also mindful of informing me about the disadvantages to the profession. I knew from an early age that teaching would mean burning the midnight oil after my own kids had gone to bed in order to tend to the needs of the kids I saw at work; I knew that there would be parents who would blame me for their child’s failure; I knew about teacher strikes and union negotiations; I knew that some days I would come home crying because I was unable to offer a child the kind of support he/she needed to feel successful in my classroom; and I knew that other days I would come home crying because I was able to make a major breakthrough with a student. Despite all of these disadvantages, I still feel incredibly blessed to be an educator; I hope that feeling will be strong enough to endure the tough times ahead. My parents, on the other hand, are not quite as sure. My mom, especially, has been encouraging me to take my skills, passion, and degrees elsewhere. And I have to admit — sometimes this sounds appealing, to be able to work only 40 hours a week (albeit 12 months a year); to not have to cater to the individual needs of 130 human beings every day; to eliminate the seemingly endless piles of paperwork… not too shabby. And among the large numbers of teachers who are taking early retirement in order to preserve some of their pension and insurance benefits, I know of an equally large number of young teachers — incredibly good young teachers — who are also weighing their professional options. So my answer to your question is a bit of a double-edged sword: I would only ever encourage someone to pursue a career in education if they really had the passion and desire to be a positive influence in the academic progress of children; however, I would also feel compelled to protect and safeguard that rare spark in these potential teachers from the financial and emotional struggles they will face in the profession. My greatest fear is that Walker’s bill may fill Wisconsin’s classrooms with mediocre, untrained teachers who don’t have the heart (or the training) to support our state’s most precious commodity: its children.
Abe Sauer can be reached at abesauer at gmail dot com.