During a scene in "Mad Men" Don Draper, the main character of the show, decides to pitch his ad idea to a company and purposefully leaves another pitch from an up-and-comer behind. The co-worker, rightfully angered by Don's attempt to sideline his ideas, calls him out during an elevator ride. During their brief conversation, he say's to Don, "I feel bad for you." Don's reply is simple, but cuts through the young up-start. He merely says, " I don't think about you at all." With that one line, Don leaves the elevator as a sort of mic drop moment.
This is probably one of the more memorable scenes from the show, and for good reason. It's brilliantly acted and very relatable. I know the scene is meant to show that people so high up on the totem pole of business don't waste their time thinking about those lower down than them, because it would be wasted time. Their job is to stay above the fray and move forward. I know I often felt like our district administration had this same thought about teachers, which is sadly true in my experience. Lately, I've come to think about this scene in a different light.
My mentor Rafe Esquith wrote in one of his books that he would often get the question about why he decided to teach. He said he stole a line from a movie about a baseball player that once said he worked so hard so that years from now people would ask "who's that walking down the street?" and they would respond, "that's Rafe Esquith, the best teacher there ever was." It took his future wife to look him in the eyes and say that's the most narcissitic thing she's ever heard. The sad thing is, I used to aspire to such praise and adornment early on as well.
Recently, a coworker passed away due to cancer. I never really worked with her, but she was always friendly and we would say hi as we passed each other occasionally. I had no idea she had cancer and it came as a surprise when I saw the email announcing her passing. They sent along the obituary, which was nice, but not a lot of other fanfare. I had another coworker pass away several years ago quite suddenly. I went to his funeral and some coworkers showed up to say some nice things, but in the end, they replaced him and the work moved on without him, just like they did with my most current coworker.
My dream of becoming that teacher that everyone knew and respected while walking down the street was just that, a dream. Maybe some students would remember me if they saw me in the newspaper's obiturary, or maybe a handful would come to my funeral, but I know the district wouldn't care one bit. At most, they may send a box of Crumble Cookies to my family. I know this because of how I was treated when I left teaching back in 2016.
When I originally left teaching, I cried several times thinking about the students and teachers I'd be leaving behind. It was a hard decision for me to make, but one I knew I had to make at the time. I put a lot of thought into my letter of resignation, stating how hard the decision was and how I'd love to come back and work someday. The only response I got back from the district was a letter stating I was in breach of contract and owed them $1000. Just remember, they don't think about us at all!
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