Lawmakers Must Make Education the Priority Over Meaningless Testing!

Yesterday, I quit. In the middle of the school year, I quit. After fourteen years in education, I quit. I. Quit. Quitting isn’t something I do, particularly when children are involved, so this is still quite difficult to think or talk about. It might seem an abrupt decision to some, but for those that know me well, you know this is something I have flirted with for a few years now. I think it started about five years ago… I was teaching in an inner-city school in Memphis. I loved my principal. I loved my kids. I loved teaching. Now, of course, there were issues. Too much paperwork. Not enough hours in the day. Uninvolved parents. Disobedient children. District mandates that made no sense. Still, overall, I was happy being a teacher. I knew that I would either drop dead teaching or they would have to roll me out in a wheelchair. It was what I wanted to do forever. Then, the evaluation process for teachers dramatically changed. Now, our students’ standardized test scores would become part of our evaluation. As I saw this change coming, I decided that I could help this process along by taking more of a teacher leader role. So, I applied and became the instructional facilitator for the school where I had taught for the past 6 years. In this role, I hoped to coach, mentor, and support teachers. After all, that was a large part of that job description. In reality, very little of my time was able to be spent doing that. What did take up a large amount of my time was being my school’s test administrator. I had experience with testing and the strict guidelines that go along with them, as all teachers do. However, as test administrator, I was now responsible for reporting my teachers if they did not follow those guidelines. The stress and worry of that prospect was just too much for me. I had become an enforcer of a practice I didn’t even believe in. I couldn’t do this to my teachers, so I left the position after two years and went back to the classroom. I decided to try a different setting. Middle school math. My first year back in the classroom was blissful. I loved my co-workers. I loved the diversity of the school. I loved teaching one subject all day. Then, we started testing. And the testing was even more frequent last year. And now, three months into the school year, I’m certain we have tested more so far than we did all last year combined. So, I quit. I’m not going to be the messenger that tells my students that they have to take another test. I am not going to spend another class period telling them I cannot help them get through a test they don’t understand. They can get someone else to do that. It will kill my teaching soul to do it even one more time. Like all teachers, I have kids that read below grade level. I can’t help them though. I also have students that have only been in the country a few months. I can’t help them though. I even have students who don’t know our alphabet because their language is different than ours. I can’t help them though. And bless their hearts, they do it because I ask them to. Most of them would do absolutely anything I asked. They trust me and believe that what I am asking them to do is what is best for them. I mean that’s why I spent weeks building connections with them at the beginning of the year. I want them to trust me. I rarely have discipline issues. We are too busy and engaged in the lesson to get off task. However, after testing kids for two weeks straight, they were done. You cannot expect struggling students to engage in an activity that is so above their instructional level for an extended amount of time without eventually seeing their behavior change. It is too frustrating for them! I could tell that those two weeks broke the bond that I had built with some of my most challenging students. They just didn’t trust me anymore. That goes against every single thing inside me that led me to become a teacher in the first place. And to be quite honest, it broke my heart. I recently saw a post where someone described teaching as an abusive relationship. You love it, but it makes you so unhappy. I get that. It does feel that way. So, I quit. I wrote a resignation letter giving my 30-day notice and gave it to my principal on a Monday morning. I told him, both of my assistant principals, and my instructional facilitator that day. With each time I told my story, I cried. They didn’t try to stop me. They didn’t make me feel guilty. They were kind and understanding. They know. I’m sure they feel like quitting sometimes, too. They aren’t the problem. I slowly told my co-workers, friends, and family. Everyone that knows me well said to do it. Every single educator said they understood and would do it too if they could. Every. Single. One. I’m not married. I don’t have kids. I don’t have a mortgage. I don’t have a car note. I have more freedom to do this than most. Because of that, I can’t be quiet about this. I need to speak for those that don’t have the option to bow out.