The teaching profession is a noble one.
It carries a level of responsibility that teachers do not leave at the classroom door once the end-of-the-day bell rings. It carries over into dinner conversations, late-night lesson planning and the family budget.
I sympathize with the Chicago Teachers Union. In 2000, Arizonans passed Proposition 301 to increase teachers' compensation if their schools’ performance on standardized tests were up to par. My mom wanted to strike, but her teaching contract prevented her from doing so.
Because teachers rarely strike, it takes an enormous amount of disrespect to drive teachers to protest. There are a recorded 827 strikes in the last four decades, according to Mother Jones. Most of the Chicago teachers probably worried profusely about their students’ wellbeing while they were away for those 8 days.
My own mother is a teacher in an urban elementary school district where the recession has struck hard.
My mom received her degree in education in 1998 when I was 10. I vividly remember her struggle through college toward a degree with a starting salary of $24,755 in Arizona.
When she graduated and landed her first job as a third grade teacher, I began to spend a lot of time in her classrooms over the years. She always described her students as her “other children.”
As long as I can remember, we were always poor. We never vacationed. Cars were clunkers. Holidays were stressful and though we were poor, I remember accompanying her on trips to Target for supplies and trips to the book sections of Goodwill to stock her classroom library out of her own paycheck.
I have seen her cry when many of her Spanish-speaking students were not reading at grade level. By fourth grade, if a student cannot read at grade level, his or her chances of ever doing so are slim. Crime statistics correlate directly with reading levels at this age.
In Texas, prisons use the number of fourth grade reading scores to predict the number of prison cells they will need in 10 years, according to Forbes. That’s a heavy statistical burden to bear at a starting teacher’s wage, which rests just above poverty level.
I have seen her cry for her students who are from poor surrounding neighborhoods and come to school with no breakfast in their stomachs. It is difficult to learn and retain information for the standardized testing that determines a school’s performance level on an empty 9-year-old stomach. She has shared her own lunches with these students.
No educator goes into the profession with the naiveté that his or her life will ever truly be easy. The desire to contribute something meaningful to society drives teachers to work every morning.
It drives my mother.
Reach the columnist at kmmandev@asu.edu or follow her at @Kaharli.
Want to join the conversation? Send an email to opiniondesk.statepress@gmail.com. Keep letters under 300 words and be sure to include your university affiliation. Anonymity will not be granted.
