Stephanie S.

~ How the Teaching Profession Chose Me

Up until around sixth grade everything was great as far as school life was concerned. Fate would have it that my elementary school was a warm, secure, forward-thinking environment where the entire student body was a part of the “learning process”. We were allowed to work at our own pace and progress through the development of Language, Science, Math, History & Culture, Music and Physical Education. I could probably name something really interesting or cool about most of the faculty at that school.

Mrs. R took the Chorus to perform in Chicago, my sister went. Mr. B, the principal knew everyone my name; Mrs. P was just plain nice. It was a really great school. Regardless of students’ age, he or she was allowed to move forward or go back and remediate, as the individual student required.

In Kindergarten I began playing violin and by third grade was playing with the sixth grade honor orchestra.
If you could do the job, it was yours. If you couldn’t, they supported and encouraged you and helped you succeed in something.

We were given a new appreciation for literature as our teachers brought the words to life by actually having writers show us how it was done. Shel Silverstein visited our school. Watching him, hearing him in person, “I am being swallowed by a Boa constrictor…” Priceless memories, moments that shaped the teacher I am today.

This was just a plain old Public School. Any school could have opened up the world to its’ students the way that ours did.

Unfortunately, reality crashed in as the family left the city and landed in Podunk, America, population around 7,000 at the time. Bum-phukked-Egypt. This is where I learned about genuine racism and really mean people. Small town America has its merits, I’m sure. It just doesn’t do it for me.

Fast Forward, 7th Grade. 1st Hour – Mr. R – Wood Shop Class –
29 “licks” over the course of 16 weeks with his wooden paddle.
In the hall, just outside the classroom door,
“Bend Over. Hands on your knees. Anything in your pockets?” Me, “No.”
THWACK *THWACK* THWACK.
The sound echoed through the halls like the shot from a C02 BB Gun.
The room is silent as we re-enter.
Ah, what a great way to begin a new day of learning at your local small-town Jr. High.

3rd Hour – Mrs. B – Science – One-Time GOLF Coach.
Damn she had a swing that could light your ass on Fire.
“What? You didn’t write 100 sentences about the horrors of chewing gum in class?”
Me, “Sorry, I have high intake needs.”
“Now it is 200 sentences, or you can take 3 swats.”
Oh gee, I get a choice!?!

Were there any bright spots in those horrid days?
Here and there.
Bong loads and Pink Floyd were a nice way to unwind from that gawd-awful “school”.

Of course I was no Model Student.
To my detriment the system wasn’t really designed to support a kid like me.

Hm. A kid like me.
My family gave new meaning to the term dysfunctional family. One teacher who gave even half a damn could have made a world of difference. In hindsight I see that many of those Elementary teachers I knew early on did indeed make a difference.

I knew that there was much better in life than what this crappy school was offering.
It frustrated the hell out of me as a teenager having basically no control over any of it.

During a 10th Grade visit to the Principals office I recall telling Mr. B that he was only there for the $60,000 a year and summers off..Don’t tell me you care when you don’t even know my name.

That’s about the 2nd time I was shipped off to L.A….Dad.
Uh huh, now a school of 1400 in the San Fernando Valley. 11th Grade in this giant pond takes me to Alternative School -Yes! Magnet School in the Valley. Take the Test, “graduate early” and take on the world at 16.

Heavens to Mergatroid!

Where does one go from there?
Up one road and down another.
Trying some of this, doing some of that. Not really knowing which way is up can lead one down some dark paths and bright roads. All the while feeling this incredible need to Do Something.
Make a Difference. Break the cycle of insanity that was my life.
Peace, order, clarity..And Baby made 3.
When my son was born it all became so clear, so obvious. Make a plan, set a goal, never look back unless it’s to better my or anothers understanding.

Enroll in college, just the basics. 1st Semester I began part-time assistant teaching at a private school.
I just saw the ad and applied.

(Could a former juvenile delinquent, ex-stripper, one-time Sunset Strip Heavy Metal Bar Groupie, pot-smoking person like me actually work in a school?)

I’d worked a lot of different jobs from splitting logs to working at AM/PM…but Teach?

The very first day I knew. I felt without a doubt that I am supposed to do this. So I did and now I am, a teacher.

The best term for what I do as a certified educator is really Guide or Facilitator. I create/provide the most optimum learning environment that I possible can.
“The Teacher Sets The Tone of the Classroom.”

So, first comes the setting. Ambiance! Music, Marvin Gaye…Mozart. Candles. Tons of books.

Over $3,000 of my own money later and uncounted hours on weekends and after school, it is a kick-ass space for learning.
A place where anyone, any age, could come in and find something inviting or interesting. At any given time, 22 kids are actively involved in their OWN active investigation and exploration of as much of the world that I can cram (neatly!) into that room.

Autonomy is encouraged and I do not punish, period.
Every child can learn. Nobody is smarter than anybody. Everyone is smart in one way or another. (Multiple Intelligences)
Everyone learns in their own way and when teachers give kids the chance to find it, the kids learn.

Parents have cursed me, principals pissed at me, Emotionally Disturbed kids have spit, bitten and kicked me. I just try harder with the ED kid and forget the cursing parents and angry bosses.

With parents I listen, I try and be empathetic and/or sympathetic. Sad how many parents just don’t give a rat’s ass. Wonderful when the ones who do care show it. It shows on their children.
To those who curse me, I ask G-d to grant Me Serenity…

Overall, I love my job. I love learning and I love it when I see kids loving it too. I have the opportunity to make a difference and give kids the freedom to think.

I’m a part of the Machine known in most places as Public Schools. I’m infiltrating the other side under the guise of an elementary school teacher.

It trips me out on a regular basis that I am doing this job, that I am a teacher.

Interestingly enough, I never hated (wasted energy) those teachers who bullied others and me. I always felt sorry for them and still imagine that they don’t have nearly enough good sex.

peace

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"See, in my line of work you got to keep repeating things over and over and over again for the truth to sink in, to kind of catapult the propaganda." —George W. Bush, Greece, N.Y., May 24, 2005 (Listen to audio)