Which Should I Choose?

April 28, 2008 in How to Get a Job
Tags: appointment, bfe, bfe-podunk joint unified, choice, classroom, clovis, college, commute, district, edublogosphere, education, fog, friday, job fair, joint, master, master teacher, podunk, school, student, student teacher, supportive, teacher, unified, white kids' unified

Let’s assume I have two choices. I have White Kids’ Unified, a mostly wealthy suburban district within spitting distance of my college and hasn’t yet offered me a contract. I also have BFE-Podunk Joint Unified, a very poor rural district that the administration in charge advertises as 95 percent Hispanic, and a district which has offered me a contract.

My master teacher has told me outright on several occasions that I am or may not be good at anything but a middle-class-white-kids’ school. This isn’t a compliment — she probably hates White Kids’ Unified with of the rest of the teachers here, masking her feelings with utter contempt.

I can’t help but think that I really do want to teach at White Kids’ Unified, anyway. Interviewer whoever-she-was was very clear:

Administrators will take care of teachers’ needs. We’re working on putting in projectors in every classroom.

White Kids’ Unified is genuinely interested in putting me in a journalism class, or a real history class. White Kids’ Unified will give me the best chance to teach my AP US History, and the way I want to.

And yet.

Something about Podunk-BFE Joint Unified makes me want that 40-minute commute each way. Something about making a real difference, a real influence. I don’t care even if I am being played for the fool — I could really teach something.

All that stuff about getting into education for the kids isn’t a lie in Podunk. Sure, the mantra of teachers in White Kids’ Unified is, after all: “For the kids.” On the other hand, teachers at Podunk-BFE Joint Unified live that motto.

If they’re working there, they have to.

Between Podunk and BFE

April 24, 2008 in How to Get a Job
Tags: appointment, bfe, bfe-podunk joint unified, classroom, commute, district, edublogosphere, education, fog, friday, joint, lie, master, master teacher, podunk, student, student teacher, supportive, teacher, unified

I was offered a job teaching English in a very rural district, and so my first consideration was:

How rural do I really want to go?

Let’s talk about how rural this district is. About 20 minutes down the freeway is a little town we’ll call Empryville. This is not where I was offered a job.

Drive past a field, and we’ll reach another town we’ll call the Middle of Nowhere. This is not where I was offered a job, either.

Drive another 10 minutes past an orange grove or two and we’ll find an even smaller town called Podunk. This is where I was offered a job.

To get to the high school, I have to turn at the corner of “charcoal-mural-of-a-steam-powered-train” and “sign-that-says-’Jesus-is-Lord-of-Podunk.’”

All told, the assisstant superintendent assures me the commute is no more than 40 minutes, total. During our famously fatal winter fog, I figure that a safe commute will end up more like an hour.

Podunk is small enough that it has a joint high school with an even smaller town called BFE. They have five elementary schools between them.

Where BFE-Podunk Joint Unified has the advantage is that they’ve already offered me a job. Teaching English. They even seemed pretty excited.

This might yet be a ruse. When the assisstant superintendent and a principal went behind the display to discuss the possibility of hiring me on the spot, I was reminded of the scene from Fargo where William H. Macy’s character goes back to “run it by the boss.”

I told this to another Podunk administrator. She laughed. She also didn’t dissuade me.

They had a huge display, even though their high school couldn’t have more than 1,000 students. Their set-up rivaled districts more than twice their size.

Their interview had been coupled with one of those Internet teacher surveys, and a conservative guess would say I answered at least 60 questions total. They also liked me, or so they said. I couldn’t help but think I was being played. Remember Fargo.

Who really wants that 40-minute commute, or, even worse, to relocate? Sure, they pay a little more than other districts, but gas prices negate any financial advantages. There must be a point where the little districts will take just about anyone wandering by.

I hope that impression is unfair, because I’m seriously considering accepting this job. What worries me is that they also told me this:

Kids here want to learn, and their parents are very, very supportive.

That’s either a convincing lie or too good to pass up. I have an appointment Friday.

Trying for an Ulcer

March 25, 2008 in How to Get a Job
Tags: advice, adviser, appointment, call, frustrating, job fair, moral, packet, philosophy, phone, receptionist, resume, secretary, statement, ulcer

Before we’re allowed to go to the teacher job fair, we’re required to create a packet. This packet should include, in no particular order and in conjunction with a few other requirements, our resume, our set of references and a philosophy statement. I finished these weeks ago, but I wanted our on-staff, full-time faculty adviser to take a look at them. My philosophy statement uses some pretty tough language.

My appointment was two weeks ago, but it never happened.

She was gone all that first week because her dad died. She was gone all last week for the same reason and it was spring break, besides. Therefore, at yesterday’s very first opportunity and at the early hour of 9:15 a.m., I called to schedule something for this week.

The voice coming over the phone tells me that she has plenty of openings for rescheduling this week. Naturally, all of these openings are between the hours of 10 a.m. and 3 p.m. I don’t know about your school’s schedule, so I’ll fill you in: I’m still going at 3 p.m. I’m not sure about her schedule.

You’d think she’d stay as late into the night as it would take to catch up on appointments, especially considering that she was the one who was gone for the last two weeks. I suppose she is, and all those slots are filled, but I am unsympathetic. After all, I am the wronged party, he opined haughtily.

I told the receptionist that yes, indeed, I once had an appointment and, during the alloted appointment time, our full-time faculty adviser had been unavailable. I went back and forth between being placed on hold and bickering for some time until I pulled the “I guess I’ll just have to go without an appointment, then” card.

That worked. I talked to the adviser herself, though undoubtedly in an appointment at the time. It turns out our adviser would be just able to squeeze me in Wednesday at 3:30 p.m.

There are so many ways that this could have been a whole hell of a lot easier. I won’t go into details.

Moral of the story? Never do anything at the last minute. Note that “at the last minute” apparently means six weeks in advance.