Inventory

"Four be the things I am wiser to know:
Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.

Four be the things I'd be better without:
Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt.

Three be the things I shall never attain:
Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.

Three be the things I shall have till I die:
Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye."
D.P.

One more poem for the summer, for tomorrow it's back to school and back to literary and scholastic tragedy. Seriously, I live in the tragedies almost the entire year(Oedipus, Macbeth, The Stranger etc.), and then we hit biting satire(Candide), followed by paranoia (1984). No wonder teachers tend to come unglued...I mean "go on sabbatical". I love these texts, but these coupled with the business of school can create disaster.
Last summer I took a class at the Dallas Institute of Humanities and Culture, a place that I absolutely cherish for providing a common ground for debate, education, and meditation. During a session, a local politician (who shall remain nameless) addressed our class for the 20 minutes he could spare for the educators in the metroplex. As reporters snapped pictures and feverishly wrote down his flippant remarks about teaching with heart... you are the future...make sure and teach with a good attitude and do all you're told without question...., we (the future) became angrier and angrier. It was clear that this man had no idea that our schools were no longer service providers; we have instead become big business , catering to the customer/parent no matter what, as long as no one sues and the test scores are passing... whatever it takes (providing that we ask for nothing). A brief question/answer time followed the politician's speech. After exhausting the "teacher's do not get paid enough" issue with answers containing the words "more and taxes and no," I surprisingly raised my hand. How do I always do this? My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking as all attention- photographers, classmates, Dr. Boy and Dr. Girl- turned to look at me. I managed to squeak out, "Ok, so we aren't getting the money. I get that (and seriously have sort of come to terms with it). But how do we get respect? We have none." There seemed to follow a gaping valley of silence followed by the politician drooling out something about if you do your job well, you'll earn... (we all stopped listening). How dare he come into our space (our garden), a place where we teachers gladly give our time and money in an effort to further our knowledge, in order to become better educators and tell us that we need to do our jobs better in order to gain respect!
After the politician left and the class remained in deer-in-headlights mode, the brilliant Dr. Boy began to talk about the purpose of teachers and how the role has evolved from a figure of stature into a tired, drained, slumped shouldered figure. How will we get over that? From the community, we all still hear the familiar phrases: "Wow, you have a really hard job. I could never do what you do," and, "I have so much respect for what you do," but the truth is, tomorrow we are headed back to our customer service cubicles. Who (parent or student and sometimes administrator) will yell at me this year? Of what will I be accused? Where will I fall short or overreach?
All of this is in my head as I go back to school. There is no foreseeable answer to be found for any of these questions. But there is, coincidentally (?), a seminar being taught at the Dallas Institute this year called "The Authority of the the Teacher: What it is and How We Exercise it." What a wonderful attempt to sort out some of the issues! Maybe I'll get to go. I wonder if they'll invite the politician... I do know that no matter what happens this year, Dorothy Parker is right. There is always laughter. There is always hope. There probably will be a sock in the eye...