Dear Governor Walker:
Perhaps you are unaware of a typical teacher's day. Allow me to help. Though no day in teaching is ever the same, you may want to open your mind to the work teachers do to educate for the future. I suspect that even you can think of at least one teacher who made a difference for you.
Nevertheless, here is my day.
The blaring sound of the alarm shakes me from my sleep at 5 AM. I spring from the warmth of the electric blanket, hit the shower, dress, feed the dog, grab my coffee, and usually make it out the door with my two totes filled with last night's corrected papers.
Backing out of the driveway, I make sure my car's headlights are on. For most of the school year I drive to school before the sun rises.
I arrive at school at 7AM, check my mailbox, sift through the morning announcements I will make as students enter homeroom. After announcements, I run to my first period class, a language arts/ reading class of 30 students. The reading range of my students sits at a low of second grade comprehension all the way to those reading on a high school level. Do you understand, Governor, that one lesson plan does not work if a teacher deals with such a wide range of reading levels? I assure you, this is NOT unusual; rather this is what I, and other teachers face, each day in each class.
After teaching for three straight periods, I have my "prep" period. Contrary to what some like you think, I do not have time to have another cup of coffee. Rather, I must copy material for tomorrow's lessons, meet with guidance counselors about at risk students, return parent phone calls, and then if I am lucky, I just might get three minutes to visit the bathroom. Most days I am not that lucky. Teachers' bladders become remarkable units for holding liquid.
After 4th period, at 11 AM, I can eat lunch. Thirty minutes is the scheduled time for lunch. However, I must be on hall duty, staying until students are in their respective classrooms. Usually I then head to the lavatory before heading to the lunch room. Of course I am expected to be back in the hallway for duty before the end of lunch, so the actual time I have to eat, at the most, is ten to fifteen minutes. TUMS and other antacids are a staple in my desk.
Once the school day ends at 2:30 PM, I stay for extra help. Extra help is offered every day, but on some days I advise after school clubs. Extra help can run until 4:30PM or later. Fridays is drama club rehearsal day, so that after school day runs until 6:30 PM.
After extra help ends, I set up the classroom for the next day, make sure all the supplies I need are at hand. If not, I make a stop at Target or Staples in order to pick up what I need. Before I head out, I again check my mailbox, and if necessary, I return calls to parents or, at times, the curriculum director. Once a week there are faculty meetings that often run beyond 4:30 PM.
Regardless, rarely do I leave the school building until 4:30 to 5:00 PM.
I reach home by 6:00 PM, make dinner, walk and feed the dog, say hello to my family, and once the kitchen is cleaned, it is time to correct papers.
Most nights I make it to bed by 11 PM or midnight. I set the alarm that begins another day.
Oh, yeah, spring rehearsals for the drama club are not just on Fridays until 6, but are also on Saturdays from 8:30 AM until 1:30 PM.
And I haven't mentioned chaperoning dances or other after school activities that take place at night.
Summers? There is summer school. Summers are also used for reading new texts, making new lesson plans, meeting with guidance to help schedule students for the upcoming year.
This is typical; an atypical day runs longer and brings other problems.
Now Governor, is it so hard for you to understand why I want a seat at the bargaining table? Because most people, like you, believe that teachers leave work at 2:30 PM, and only work 9 months. So if people believe teachers do not work hard, have too many vacations, and lounge around all summer, what would you want to pay them? Not much, I bet.
But the truth, Governor, is that teachers are the hardest working people I know. I see them every day. They are teachers, parents, psychologists, and sometimes mind readers.
Now consider the average pay of a teacher, and I defy you to say their time is not worth it.