Confounding Conundrum

I often think that I work in a mad house, but sometimes things are even more infuriating than normal. Over the past three days, I have been aghast at the flippancy with which other educators handle large scale issues, particularly ones that could have major repercussions. Some of my dismay is fueled by the struggles that I have personally had for the past 12-14 months, but another part of it is the unclear nature of the pseudo-collaborative hierarchy (how’s that for an oxymoron) that runs my school. Couple all of that with a chronic illness like narcolepsy, and no wonder I am drained every day.

Although the posts are not here (yet, I hope), I wrote nearly a year ago about how the school had turned my life upside down by pulling the two other teachers on my team to teach a different course with another team. My new team is surviving, and one of my new co-teachers is outstanding. The other, unfortunately, is not, but that might change for next year. Nonetheless, my two former colleagues went to this other team and have had a rougher year than me. Because of various other issues, their course actually increased in enrollment and now needs a second team to teach it. But, no other faculty want to become a part of the course. So, in ways quite similar to my experiences last year, someone from that course approached a teacher on one of the other teams that teaches the same course that I do. That alone was not supposed to happen again. From that initial conversation that teacher’s entire team suddenly thought that they might be moving to the other course, meaning that within a two year period, a grade 12 course might have pulled 5 teachers from a grade 9 course.

Apparently, everything shifted again today, and now none of the teachers on that other team appear to be moving to the other course, but my concern has far more to do with the guidance (or lack thereof) that any of us are receiving when it comes to curriculum decisions. Even for a healthy teacher, the daily grind of this job is tough to endure. For me, though, my narcolepsy often makes it a struggle to even get to work. When insane decisions suddenly rear their heads, I find myself completely derailed. In one way, whatever happens this year has no impact on me – other than ripping the scabs off of my psychological wounds from last year. At the same time, however, I am deeply affected if major changes happen in one of the other teaching teams of the course I teach. If an entirely new team came on board, the nature of our curriculum would necessitate that teachers from other teams spend large chunks of time with the new team to get them on track. The problem is that I cannot afford to expend that energy. I need to save my strength for my own classroom, for my family, and for myself.

Perhaps, that last item is the part that is most troubling to me. I continue to struggle to save anything for me even now, so I cannot imagine how torn I will feel if there is a brand new teaching team that might need my help. The emotions are compounded by the hurt that I still harbor from last year, though. My school never should have allowed both of my co-teachers to leave at the same time. I would argue that it should never happen, regardless of who the remaining teacher is, but having the “anchor” person on a three person team be someone with a chronic illness is downright criminal. I admit that even I minimize the realities of my condition, but the bottom line is that I am a person with a disability. For my school to place me in a situation where I need to bring two other people up to speed on what we are doing each day is grossly unfair to me and to my students. While we have weathered the storm of this year decently in our classroom, my home life, and particularly my family, have paid a huge price for the extra energy that I have expended trying to make things work in my classroom. The worst part is that I raised these issues when I finally learned what was going to happen, and I went in to discuss them during the current school year when it was obvious that things were not working well. I would even be okay with the complete lack of follow-up that has been the reality of my personal situation IF the school seemed to be working to prevent anything like my experience from last year from happening again. Instead, though, I have spent the last 72 hours learning that the lessons of last year were apparently unlearned in less than 365 days. Yippee.

In the end, everything will work out, but each time something like this happens, another question mark is raised in my mind. I know that I am a good teacher and that most students are well-served by my school, but I feel like we continue to move closer and closer to making some catastrophic decisions. Plus, whether it is the stress or my narcolepsy worsening, making it to work gets tougher and tougher every day. I do hope that I can maintain my current part-time level for four more years. After that, who knows. I love teaching and will miss it terribly when I retire, but I also need to consider what are the core priorities in my life. Those things must come first which I fear means that my teaching career will likely not see the dawning of 2020.

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1 Comment

Filed under Confusion, Depression, Education, Emotions, Exhaustion, Family, Frustration, Honesty, Humility, Loss, Narcolepsy, Relationships

One response to “Confounding Conundrum

  1. Dana

    You sound like you feel disrepected, uprooted, and out of control. Three things that drive me crazy, as it would drive anyone crazy.

    Being young and without any teaching or serious career experience, I can only offer a hug and my sympathy. I’m keeping you and your well being on my heart always.

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