Support

Teaching has got to be one of the hardest jobs on the planet. I don't care what you say-- to be a good one, you have to be as smart as a doctor, as creative as an artist, as calmly argumentative as a lawyer, plus being insanely analytical, organized, flexible and a good communicator. You take a beating every day, and you only survive it if there is support.

If you're a surgeon, you have some pretty intense days. A lot rests in your hands, and I'm sure the pressure can be overwhelming. Yet, your environment is usually calm. The people you're helping are sedated. And when you ask for something, it is in your hand immediately. Your team is there to assist you, no questions asked and often times, there is more than one surgeon in the room. You have to be a well-oiled machine because a life is on the line. People treat you with high regard and assume you are good at your job, you are a professional. You have status. And money. Long days, always on call,probably constantly tired, and have to sometimes tell loved ones a person has passed. But you have support for all of those things.

In a classroom, it isn't just one life that's on the line. Its every single one. But because it can be a slow decay, we don't think of it as a life and death scenario. Yet, we could never blame the medical institution for thousands of people ending up in jail each year. Not so of education.

The people you're helping? Some are great-- brilliant lightning bolts of people. Yet, some don't want to be there, and can be apathetic or see you as the enemy instead of someone who wants to help them. When you ask for something, there may not be anything to give you. There is no money to get what you need. There aren't the resources. There is not time to collaborate and plan with your team. Your administrators are too busy to solve every problem on campus. You do not feel like a priority. You are an island on your own because every man is for himself, treading water, bleeding, surrounded by sharks, just trying to survive as the work gets piled, piled, piled on. And when you can't do everything alone, you're assumed to be either incompetent or insubordinate instead of what you probably are-- overwhelmed, exhausted, frantic, overworked and doing the best you can with what you have.

Some people in the community thank you, and take you in. Some people treat you as members of their family. Some people look at you like you're a saint for what you do for the money you receive, but even they have no idea what you deal with on a day to day basis. Others are shocked to find a "teacher who actually cares." Others think you're nuts for doing your job. Others assume you're probably not very smart, that you lecture all hour, that you're a glorified babysitter, that you're the reason this country is going down the drain. The lack of respect you get from just about everyone. The hours and hours and hours of work you put in after school hours are invisible, and people just tell you how lucky you are to have the summers off.

Yet, for all this, I know I want to stay in teaching. I am good at my job. Hell. I am great at my job. But, I am tired of being an island. People have told me over the last week that education sucks out a soul, that every school does this, but I don't believe it. I can't. I still have this tiny pinpoint of hope that says that somewhere there must be people who work together, are given time, are respected, are treated right, are paid right. Are taken care of.

I need to feel taken care of. Because right now, I am just falling apart.