Tarantulas for Incremental Improvement

Things are getting better, and have been much, much worse

It may be a part of the human condition that we want things to be tied up neatly in a little box, perhaps a gift bag, with a bow on top. A clear path, the future bright, the past behind and preferably rationalized away.

But it doesn’t work that way a lot of the time.

I was very sad that I didn’t get the job I applied for, but I kept my super happy face on for days on end. In many ways it is a relief to no longer feel like I’m auditioning every day at work, and no matter what, the kids will always get my best.

But things have improved. I got signed up as a long term for the assignment I was actually doing long term, which means a small but significant jump in pay and some other wonderful things like my own key to the first floor bathroom! I was so happy to get that bathroom key that I think the school secretary was a little concerned, but really, it is awful to have to ask for the bathroom key every single day when you go to work at the place you go to every single day. I realize it’s not being a hostage in Gaza, but it’s annoying, so I am excruciatingly grateful for my bathroom key.

I’m actually getting to do the lesson planning and grading for a class Tuesday and Thursday (four classes each day) and the rest of the time subbing. That’s fine for now. I have more security than I had, and I have an actual role. Of course I still don’t get paid on days we aren’t there and I have no health or retirement benefits, but I will get all that for next year… somewhere.

I asked to still be considered for positions that come open for which I might be qualified, like 7-8 grade English. The job I applied for was a very non-traditional teaching job, and I suspect I’d be much happier as a middle school English teacher anyhow. Who do you know whose dream in life it is to teach 7th and 8th graders? We are an odd bunch, middle school teachers. I do like the ninth and tenth graders too and the big kids I always address as “Hey, almost grown folks!” but there’s something special about seventh and eighth. It’s so pivotal. If you really want to make an impact, there is the chance.

Clearly the problem was not me, and I get to stay with all my friends and the kids who’ve gotten used to me, so that’s fine. For now. I also think it’s for the best that I get some time to really consider what I want. I’ll apply to a lot of schools and districts. I know I loved teaching my SAT prep kids, and while jobs in those districts may be harder to get, it can’t hurt to try.

Teaching urban kids has one set of problems, teaching suburban kids has another. Everything in life is a trade off. But not having a regular income and benefits has a set of problems I am quite tired of. As my subscribers who came over from our friend Steve’s blog Navigating the Drift may know, it’s actually awful. There is nothing glamorous about gig work or being economically insecure. The anxiety of lying awake at night trying to make the numbers add up between uncertain income and certain bills plus unexpected expenses makes you sick, either quickly or slowly. I’m not interested in one more year of uncertainty. I don’t care if the work is “God’s work” or the Devil’s work, if it doesn’t pay a full time salary with healthcare and retirement benefits, after late August this year, I am not doing it.

Still, things are looking up. No reason to take anything personally in life but certainly not the fact that I didn’t get the job I applied for. The teachers who saw me staying late yesterday were so happy to hear that I had a long term. “You’re part of the team for real!” one said. Well, almost. But it’s improvement. Incremental improvement.

Better is better.

One of my best friends thinks I just need a boyfriend. Maybe the fellow pictured above will ask me out. Seems like as good a prospect. Handsome, can obviously provide, and would certainly scare creepy dudes away from hitting on me !