Whenever I read headlines, I think about what they mean. In the Post is a story suggesting 60% of DOE employees would leave if they could. That's pretty shocking. There must be almost no morale whatsoever among us, you'd think. But what does it mean when they say, "if they could?" I mean, anyone could. I could send a nasty email and never go to work again. But hey, anyone could do that. Here's the fine print:
One stark effect of the persistent low morale is the prevalent feeling among educators that, if there were no financial consequences, they would want to resign...
Okay then, I'm curious why the results aren't higher. That's a pretty big if. How many jobs are there that you could just walk off with no financial consequences? Name one. Heiress? Oil company magnate? Betsy de Vos? On this astral plane, even if I am toiling away at Walmart for minimum wage I can't walk away with no financial consequence. In fact, if I have a job as crappy as that I must be in pretty bad financial shape to begin with. That person has more to complain about than I do.
Nonetheless, way before COVID came around, I've known plenty of teachers disenchanted with the job. "How are you?" I'd ask young colleagues in the morning. "Living the dream," they'd answer, with all the sarcasm they could muster. One of my saddest experiences as chapter leader was when a young teacher came up to me and said, "You're so lucky. You can retire whenever you want." Never mind that I'm 30 years older than she is, or that she has almost another 30 before she's in my position.
There are a whole lot of reasons you could feel disenchanted, and they've been around long before the pandemic. When you're in an ancient building that hasn't been maintained since it was built, that's a big old, "Screw you," from the NYC Department of Education. When they pack the students in like sardines, load your building to well over 200% capacity, and tell you to your face CONTINUE READING: NYC Educator: Today in NY Post--Dog Bites Man