From the mouths of babes...

Okay, so the fifth grade isn't exactly in the "babes" stage, but these kids are still just that- kids. What I find so interesting is that kids get things. They make things simple. They don't try to overcomplicate things at all, either. Just like the kids understood our election process and its flaws, these kids see some basic things.

Case in point- money. Every year I seem to stumble upon the same conversation at some point in the school year. Kids start talking about what they want to do with their lives. Some of them base the decision on money and some don't. This year is no different. I have kids who want to be doctors, astronauts, veterinarians, pilots and even a few who want to teach. This is great way to talk about big numbers because when you ask them WHY they want to do that job many always say that the money is a part of it. So we talk about careers where you make a lot of money (some doctors). This year we talked a lot about the President. I pointed out what the President made (which escapes me at this point) and asked them if they thought it was more than enough money or not enough. They split half and half. Then we talked about what all the president does. By the end of it many thought it was just right or he needed to be paid more. OKAY...so one kid always asks this question- "How much do you make, Ms. M?" To which I always reply- "Enough to pay my bills and get by. How much do you think I make?"

This is the part where it gets interesting. After the President conversation they start to weigh my job requirements. They ask how much school I have to go through, what things I have to do to keep the job (as they know that three times in the year the principal comes to observe the classroom, plus my mentor twice, and a "peer observer" at least twice) and the likes. Every year the estimate for how much a teacher, like myself, should make is always a surprise because it is roughly half of what I actually make. This year's estimate? $50,000 a year. That is how much my kids think I should be making based on what they see me do every day for them. When I tell them it is a lot less than that...well the looks are priceless. The outrage as they list for me all that should indicate deserving more money is something to hear. This year's list included the trivial things-
You play at recess with us when you don't have to.
You put the band aid on my finger when I could do it myself.
You make fun of yourself to help us learn.

Then there are the things that nearly make me cry because it proves to me that I do matter. I am doing a job that is needed and appreciated beyond a monetary value:
You tell me that I can when I think I can't.
You don't let the class laugh when I don't get it....again.
You gave me a hug when I felt really bad.
You made math fun even though you told us you failed it in high school.
Our projects are really interesting.
You laugh a lot when you teach.
You make the day go by fast.
I'm excited to come back to school when we track out.

These are the things I live for. Sure, getting more money would mean less financial worries and more bills (those pesky student loans) paid off. But money doesn't buy that kind of love of a student. Money can't determine a good teacher from a bad. You can pay a bad teacher all the money in the world and they still won't get the praise from their students that I get from mine.

Today a student and I had an interesting conversation as the class walked down to lunch. I can't remember how it started, but this one girl equated me to her pastor. She was telling me how she found out that her pastor made very little money and that concerned her so she went to talk to her dad. Her dad pointed out that the pastor made his choice, not based on money, but because he enjoyed bringing the Word of God to the world. I agreed that many people choose a job because it gives them joy, not tons of money. She looked at me and said:
"Kind of like you, Ms. M. You teach because you enjoy bringing the word of knowledge to our brains."

It was a funny moment and we both giggled a little bit, but she was serious too. That one comment summed up my entire feelings on being a teacher. I could have a crap day and want to strangle every single one of those kids, but the very next day I forgive them and forgive myself for feeling that way. I remember that the thing that either stands in the way of these kids reaching their potential or pushes them to the stars is two letters long- M-E. The best feeling in the world is to have a kid give me a card or write me a letter or just tell me: "Because of you, I get it." How can I complain that teachers don't make enough when I get that nearly every single day?

It seems strange to me how many people don't know how much a teacher makes. In Wake County it is public knowledge and on our website. So many parents are amazed when they hear the sums. One of my fellow teachers just earned her National Board Certification. It is a long and difficult process. By obtaining this she takes a nice pay increase. Consider this- Wake County has not had a truly substantial pay raise in years when it comes to teachers. We have a pay ladder based on the years you have been "on license" and it steps up each year, but not by a ton. A person who has been on license for 3 years with just a BA earns $31, 447 a year. If you get your National Boards your pay increases by $4,000 a year! If you stay here for 30 years and then retire you cap out at $52, 988. I am not saying that is anything to be ashamed of, but compare it with other professions. My step-mom, who was the secretary to the HR person at a small school district in Michigan made nearly that much! How is this in any way right? I don't know. The same girl who compared me to her pastor in such a funny way also made this observation: That as little as 10 year ago your average "waste facilitator" (garbage man) made more than most teachers after 15 years of teaching. Garbage men are essential, but so are teachers.

Okay, I have ranted quite long enough, but the whole thing that my student said to me today, well it got me thinking. I love my job, my students can see that, the parents can see that, my family can see it. I make enough money to live comfortably here with Chris and our pets. It's not the money that rewards me and drives me to teach, it's the kids. Every story they tell me, every laugh we share, every kid I can spark. That's what gets me up in the morning. That's what keeps me going when I feel crappy. Because I know that I do matter in the life of those 12 kids. Without me some of them would have been allowed to hate math or writing or history or reading or science. If I can put that off for yet another year and give one more kid a chance at success in something they never thought they would succeed at, then I am happy.