FULL DISCLAIMER: THIS IS MY
STORY FROM MY OWN PERSPECTIVE. PLEASE DON’T SPECULATE AS TO WHO I AM SPEAKING
OF, AS I WILL NOT BE NAMING ANYONE UNLESS TO PRAISE. AND I AM SPILLING TEA, NOT
TO SENTATIONALISE, BUT BECAUSE I’VE SEEN TOO MANY YOUNG TEACHERS FALL INTO THE
TRAPS I FELL INTO.
Let me start today's rambling with a question: What would you do for absolute job security and benefits? How far are you willing to be pushed for your annual bonus?
I don’t remember always
wanting to be a teacher. I just remember gravitating towards it – probably out
of rage after my high school made us do Romeo and Juliet two years in a
row and did not let us answer the essay question. I felt a little like they had
failed me. Don’t get me wrong, I had excellent teachers. But they were
constrained by a system that they could not change.
But if I start talking about
everything that is wrong with South Africa’s education system and how I think
we should fix it, we’ll be here until next year.
When I finished my BA in
English, I had dreams of becoming a writer full time (we’ll laugh at that
later), but my bills needed to be paid. Somehow, education was something that I was always able to do relatively
well. I was tutoring a homeschooled kid (which, by a twist of fate, is how I
ended up in my current job), I taught French to pilots, German to engineers,
and academic literacy to nurses. All before I was done with my second degree: I
was in love with it.
What started out as a way to pay my bills became a way for me to make a difference in people’s lives. Which, if you know me at all, is worth more than its weight in gold to me. Then, in 2015, my dreams came true. I started as an English teacher at a government school. I was so thrilled and I loved teaching those kids. The pay was crap, the hours long, but the kids great. I was in the thick of finishing my PGCE (Postgraduate certificate in Education) and this was my first real teaching job.
About a year after that, I was
permanently appointed to a government post which meant a nice pension, medical
aid subsidy, yearly bonus, and tons of leave. On a side note, it’s really
difficult to get fired from this job. Needless to say, I was in a very good place
professionally. But as the years went on, I became increasingly unhappy with my
position. There was no room for growth and innovation – two things I
professionally thrive on. What also killed me was the fact that I was busting
my chops trying to do right by my kids, while doing a ton of extra-murals, and
having a full timetable, all while other teachers did the bare minimum, and to
the government there was no difference between us. We would get the same
benefits, the same pay increase. The kicker is that the teacher who did the
bare minimum was actually treated better than I was. Fewer classes, fewer
extra-murals, and fewer duties in general.
This could also be because management did not like me. What can I say? You should know just by reading this that I don’t shut up. Or perhaps the few people that did work, were given everything to do. Every year, I was stuck teaching the same grade, with the most learners per grade, and very little support from management.
Now, I’m not saying I was
perfect. I was definitely not. Much of my time at the government school was
spent learning through mistakes. In my opinion, this happened because of two
reasons:
1-
This was my first formal teaching job
2- I had little to no guidance
Any person is bound to make mistakes, and I made my fair share. In my first year teaching grade 8s, I missed administering an entire assessment. I did not realise that they had to write an additional test. But that was easy to rectify. My first time setting a test I remember the test being thrown back at me and the feedback being that the test was ‘unusable’ with no other notes on improvement.
Then there were some incidents that left me in tatters. I am quite a naïve person, and always tend to believe the best in people. I am also a very open person. My thoughts and feelings are rarely hidden. I like to think I always conduct myself as professionally as possible, all while being open and honest. This left me vulnerable. Oh boy, was I the resident doormat for a while.
Get ready for story time. This happened within the first year or so at the school. As I was doing my honours at the time, I had the occasional afternoon class after school. I was also helping out with debate. One day, the debate captain came to me and requested my classroom for practice as the debate teacher had left and locked his classroom. I agreed, handed the captain my class keys, asked him to lock and place my keys in my cubby when they were finished. They usually finished at 4pm.
The next day, I found my keys
in my cubby and went about my day. About a week later, I get called into the
principal’s office with the deputy, and I am giving a written warning to sign.
The kicker was that the warning did not state what I was being warned for. When
I asked about the warning, the principal simply asked me “Did you give your
keys to a student?”
Obviously, I replied that I did and explained that the
It turns out a student was pregnant, and had said they did the deed at school. I was the young, new teacher, and an easy target. I remember telling my mom about this that evening, and she gave me some wisdom:
“Be careful of that principal, he is spineless and will do anything to protect himself and not you.”
This was the first incident I can clearly remember. I know I should have reported their unprofessionalism then and there, but I was young and I just wanted to teach. I also did not want to be that person (but be that person). Things became worse in the ensuing years, and my mental health started to decline. You may ask why I stayed so long? Most of it was the kids. I remember getting panic attacks the night before school started again after the holidays. I would pitch up at school on Day One with a heavy chest, and then the kids would make that disappear. I remember one kid, Mpho, said “Hi Ma’am, I really missed you. It’s so good to see you.”
And my heart melted. I had taught him a few years prior and wouldn’t even be teaching him that year. This was my overall experience with the kids. They were the only reason I got out of bed in the mornings. But management kept treating me like utter garbage. (I get to say that now, because I have excellent managers I can compare them to). I was made to believe I was the world’s worst teacher. (Okay – that was a little oxymoronic, but I always felt I was up there.)
When I finally had a head of department who mentored me, she changed my perspective one day when she said “You need to leave here, they will never appreciate you.”
She was the first person to ever stick up for me at that school and I appreciated that more than words can say, even though management just ignored her. At least I had someone in my corner. Eventually, a friend of mine gave my CV to an online school and they offered me a job. No benefits, just a gross package and I could work from home.
I jumped at it. I get to work with cutting-edge teaching tech in a relatively new niche field? Those were the real benefits to me.
I remember handing in my resignation to the principal and his only reaction was “Are you doing to me what she did to me?” (She being the teacher who recommended me for my new position). I got the impression that he felt I owed them something. Many people told me it was a mistake to leave my government job, because I lost all those benefits.
But what are those benefits worth if I don’t have the time or energy to enjoy my life or my job. What is the use if I am so burned out that my students suffer? So I left, and I haven’t looked back. I have grown professionally and personally. I’m still working in education, and I still do it for the amazing kids I get to meet.
And look at me go. I’m writing again.
-Tash