Darker side of Maine education system

Springtime in Maine schools is a busy time for everyone involved in education, a time filled with meetings, proms, graduations and athletic contests. With only a week or two (plus, of course, the final teacher workshop days) separating the school year from summer vacation, everyone is anxious to have the year end, but at the same time the end is bittersweet as students with whom we have formed bonds will leave for the summer, for college, or for their new jobs.

We who have spent the past year (and the years before) with our students – seeing them grow, watching them learn, listening to their trials, triumphs and excuses for missing homework – always find this time particularly rewarding as we see our charges at their best. We see them filled with pride as they walk across the stage to receive diplomas, or we get smiles (and occasional hugs) as they move on in their lives; this is the form of payment that is worth so much to us, and this makes it easier to forget the long, dark winter.

I am 35 years old and at an age where one begins to reflect on one’s past and finalize plans for one’s future. Unfortunately, while education has been a very successful part of my past to date, it will not be part of my future. As an educator, I will miss the special moments in education, these “springtimes” in Maine. Despite my feelings for them, however, I have too many irreconcilable differences with the education process to continue in this field. I have taken a great deal of pride in the job I have done in education as a teacher, a coach, and an administrator; as an administrator, I have been compensated fairly well for my work (the average salary for assistant principals in the state is approximately $51,000).

These monetary benefits, however, only last as long as I remain working – retirement, for me and for most teachers across the state is something one faces with trepidation. Mandatory enrollment in the Maine State Retirement System, with the restrictions, limitations and shortfalls which have been so widely noted over the past two or three years (but which remain unaddressed) for teachers that means that they must teach until they are 65 – or suffer substantial penalties for retiring early – and once retired, had better remain at the peak of health, because insurance coverage is abysmal.

Since this system also takes such a substantial chunk from each paycheck – a paycheck which is already somewhat less than awe-inspiring – teachers also have little opportunity to supplement this “retirement fund.” However, even the fiscal realities surrounding the education profession do not dampen my love for teaching, certainly not to the point of quitting the system entirely. Unfortunately, there are other frustrations as well.

As an administrator, I deal all too often with the “darker” side of the education system: students who smoke in school, swear at teachers, or threaten other students. I also hear from parents who think that their children should be getting more playing time on the field or on the court, or that their child was unfairly suspended because he or she didn’t really call that other child an offensive name, and even if they did, they didn’t really mean it. These problems have existed since education began, and will probably continue to exist until the end of days; in and of themselves, while they are frustrating and annoying, they are not enough to make me give up my profession.

My certification runs out in July. In order for me to return to education, I must be fingerprinted so that it may be ascertained that I have not committed a crime heinous enough to preclude my ability to teach children and to keep them safe. Given what I do, the hours I put into my work, the job I have done, and the political rather than practical motivations behind the law, itself, I initially felt insulted by the legislation.

Over the past two years, I have heard proposals for lap-top computers for all seventh graders, exit exams based upon Learning Results, and raising the base teacher salary to a mandatory minimum of $25,000 – all outwardly laudable projects, given an ideal world. I also hear of shortages in the teaching profession, firearms brought to school by children, and the creation of a committee examining why more educators are not entering education administration.

None of what I hear has done anything to ease the resentment I feel toward the politics involving my profession. In fact, while I watch and listen (something teachers have done for quite some time – unfortunately, rarely do we act upon our beliefs; instead, we accept additional burdens and continue doing our best for our students), I grow more angry at a system which does not truly recognize what we do every single day of the school year, year after year.

Fortunately for me, I don’t have to remain in education to survive. I have an undergraduate degree from Dartmouth College and a master’s degree from Wesleyan University. I can start my own business, expand my summer work, or return to school and add skills to those I already possess. It is a luxury that many others in my profession cannot afford. They have families, mortgages and expenses that force them to remain in a profession which many feel has betrayed them.

Refusing to renew my certification and continue in the field of education was a difficult decision, but an inevitable one. Of course, I will miss my students, my players, and my colleagues – but I will not miss the politics played with education for people who want to “feel good” about schools rather than do what is in students’ best interests. If public education wants “the best and the brightest” to enter, it should stop giving them reasons to find employment elsewhere; altruism and intrinsic rewards only go so far.

Harearl Moore is the assistant headmaster at Lee Academy.