In the early years of teaching,no one spoke of retiring except, Joe Marino. Swaggering into the staff room he would announced, "Forty-four pay checks!"Of course lay-people would think, a pay check every week . . that's just a wink of an eye. Teachers know it means four years and four months. Comments towards this monthly announcement ranged from,"Oh, Joe!" to my answer,"I'll teach until I drop dead!"Little did I know I would retire at the exact same age as Joe. At the time I really didn't even know when a teacher could retire. Now, I know that Joe was fifty when he started the count down, and would retire early after reaching fifty-five. We had the biggest blow-out party for him in the history of our small suburban school district.I left with damn little fanfare (that's for Mark Twain) and even less rejoicing. Quasi-force retirement is what I called it. You have to know the state of California's budget to know what was happening all over the state's school districts. Chicken Little's cry, "The sky is falling," was the answer to why school budgets were being cut and enormous numbers of teachers pink-slipped.
Joe Marino left before education took a big nose dive, and some people think I left just at the right time, almost twenty years later. The twenty-four years of teach young kids how to read ended due to cuts and I was booted out the door and shoved into the eighth grade door kicking and screaming inside my head,outwardly a smile on my face and singing "I Will Survive" . I had taught some twenty-five years before at various other school districts and thought if I really loath this assignment, I'll retire. Move over Joe. Ten more pay checks!
Keeping my true feeling about thirteen year olds and middle school in check, was hard for me. I did teach in middle school very briefly, at the beginning of my career. Quickly, I came to the realization that you had to be a "f***** witch to hang out with eighth graders. This was not me. Even faster, I signed up at the local university for classes so I could get the hell out of middle school, which was called junior high at the time.A more accurate name. And now here I was back in middle school, and ready to be the "f***** witch" that I can be, when my back is against the wall.
Joe Marino left before education took a big nose dive, and some people think I left just at the right time, almost twenty years later. The twenty-four years of teach young kids how to read ended due to cuts and I was booted out the door and shoved into the eighth grade door kicking and screaming inside my head,outwardly a smile on my face and singing "I Will Survive" . I had taught some twenty-five years before at various other school districts and thought if I really loath this assignment, I'll retire. Move over Joe. Ten more pay checks!
Keeping my true feeling about thirteen year olds and middle school in check, was hard for me. I did teach in middle school very briefly, at the beginning of my career. Quickly, I came to the realization that you had to be a "f***** witch to hang out with eighth graders. This was not me. Even faster, I signed up at the local university for classes so I could get the hell out of middle school, which was called junior high at the time.A more accurate name. And now here I was back in middle school, and ready to be the "f***** witch" that I can be, when my back is against the wall.
