Bill 22 and the Reality of Teaching

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A letter, self-explanatory:


Dear sirs;

I write to four of you: Mr. Abbott as Education Minister, Mr. Hansen as my MLA, and Mr. Dix as leader of the Opposition, and Mr. Austin as Education Critic for the Opposition. It is my hope that the following will be read during debate in the legislature on Bill 22.

Welcome to my Grade 6 classroom.

It houses 30 students, just barely – at going-on-twelve, the kids take up a lot of space. There’s an old-fashioned cloakroom, with hooks about 20 cm apart and cubbies built way above the heads of the students. I need to dismiss the kids in shifts, because the cloakroom isn’t safe when all of them are trying to access their gear at once.

The room hasn’t been painted in at least 20 years. I know, because I’ve been at the school for more years than that. In order to open the windows (which I must, according to an air quality report done a number of years ago), I have to, as the kids say “spaz out” on them, punching them open. At 3:00, I have to slam them shut to be able to latch them. The parents below must think I’m angry, all that slamming, but I have to shut them as the heat’s been turned off some time earlier and I still have a couple of hours work to do before I leave. The student desks are wobbly and gouged. My own desk was a donation, one of a few cast-offs from an office a parent worked in. We have white boards, finally installed this year after years of chalk boards. Amazing what gratitude I can feel for this change. The computer is great, the only really great thing in the room, supplied in order to comply with the Education Ministry’s on-line attendance requirements. (The student computers in the school are more than ten years old; they were paid for by parent fundraising.) My desk chair is made of oak, exactly like the ones my own teachers had, forty years ago. A colleague recently requested more ergonomic chairs and was refused. I have another chair that I teach from when I need to sit; it is a lightly padded stool that I can raise and lower, and I bought it for myself with my own money.

But that’s just the physical space, not so very important in the scheme of things.

Meet my students. Five of them have special needs designations. Technically, that is more than is allowed under current legislation, but that is the composition I was handed. Education Minister Abbott has been saying that it is discrimination to limit the numbers of special needs students in a classroom. I’m confused by such an idea; it’s like saying building entrance ramps for wheelchair-bound people is discriminatory – they should be allowed to negotiate the stairs.

 Let me tell you about each of these students:
             (details removed for the protection of students)

To serve the needs of these five kids, there are 1.4 Special Ed. Assistants assigned to the class. A. takes all of the time of one of these (as he should), meaning that the other four are expected to share about 10 hours per week.

None of these kids can do any work without direct one-on-one supervision. I do my best to get to them, to monitor their tasks, but I have little time to actually sit down and coach each one, which is what they need. Usually, when I check on them, they have done nothing – the page is blank. B. and C. don’t have a clue how to begin a task or continue one once begun. D. and E. simply don’t want to work, and their anxiety disorders stop me from pushing too hard.

I have 25 other students.

Two of them are brand new English speakers, and four others are still in direct-service ESL classes, meaning that their reading and writing skills are well below grade level. These six spend about two hours a week in ESL classes.

I have two designated gifted students, and three others that probably should be designated, but missed the testing, given only in Grade 3. These students need to be challenged constantly; they are considered special needs, too. It is not good enough to keep them busy with the kind of rote work that gives the average student practice and reinforcement in basic skills. There is a program available to gifted students which runs two sessions per year for six afternoons each – 12 afternoons for the entire year. The rest of their enrichment is up to me.

I have two students that I consider to have serious behaviour problems. These two exhibit behaviours such as wandering out of their seats, constant noise-making and socializing, being off-task unless closely monitored, disrupting lessons, distracting other students, throwing things across the room; during lunch time in the classroom, they have rubbed up against girls, made pelvic thrusting gestures, made obscene gestures with bananas and other items. Their playground behaviour has brought them to the attention of the principal on numerous occasions. The records show that these students have displayed behaviour problems since kindergarten. Teachers and principals do their best to “put out fires” as they occur.

Another student was once designated as severe behaviour, but has been delisted. He is generally not a problem now, though he calls out frequently and has a volatile temper; several times, I have jumped in just in time to prevent another student from being hurt.  Yet another student utters threats when she is annoyed at a classmate, and I have received no less than three requests from parents that their children not be placed near her (or in sight of her) in the seating plan.

We’re up to 20 now. There are more.

Three students besides the special needs kids are barely able to perform at grade level and that only with a good deal of intervention; I need to determine if they, too, have learning disabilities, but even if they do, they would be very low on the priority list for Ed-Psych testing, which is two years long. They would not qualify for aide time, in any case. They attend Learning Assistance classes three times a week, for a total of two hours. There they work on reading and writing skills, excellent for building the basics, but they struggle immensely with concepts in Science and Social Studies and their written output is well below expectations. They do not meet the criteria to allow for adaptations to their program, so I am obliged to give them low grades on their report cards, further deflating their already-low self-esteem.

I have at least four girls with serious social difficulties. They are in a constant state of emotional upheaval. Friendships shift like tsunamis. Another three girls have been involved in serious internet bullying activities in the past. The school counsellor is at the school for a day and a half a week. She manages to see a needy student typically three or four times in the year.

I have three students with custodial alerts on their files. That means there are family situations so acrimonious or dangerous that we in the school have to look out for who picks the kids up from school. We can only guess the emotional impact on the kids, and the impact on their ability to learn.

The mother of one of my students is known for harassing teachers; she has made trouble for every teacher her kids have had over the course of ten years now. Earlier in the year, she complained about me to the principal, to the superintendent, and to the Ministry of Education. My practices were defended at each level. Recently, she began again. I am confident in my skills as a teacher and I feel myself to be sensitive and innovative; I will not change course, but I’m looking over my shoulder as I teach.

I have a number of able, untroubled, motivated students. They don’t get a lot of individual attention from me, though I try to connect with each of them as frequently as I can. They are my reassurance than I can, indeed, teach. After all, I went into this profession to be a teacher.

I do love my job. I do love my students, every one of them. I invest heavily in all of them, and I lose sleep over them. By the end of the year I am always worn out, but this year, it will be to the bone.

But this is not about me. It is about the needs of my students, thirty kids who need the best our affluent society has to offer them. It is about bringing them into adulthood with the ability to be competent, contributing citizens. It is about providing them with the best education we can offer, these kids who will inherit the world we have created for them.

I don’t believe lawmakers know what’s needed in classrooms. Teachers are the ones who know that. Teachers absolutely need to be empowered to make decisions on behalf of their students. The level of responsibility I face every day is enormous. I ask that the government acknowledge that, not just in word, but in action.

The proposed legislation governing the practice of teaching frightens me. It will pass into law much what the employer (BCPSEA – BC Public School Employers’ Association) has on the bargaining table, yet the Education Minister calls it fair and balanced and emphasizes the “cooling off period” mandated by the bill. How is it a cooling off to mandate issues that were supposedly up for discussion?

What I see is that someone else will determine what I need to develop my professional skills, that my years of experience will count for little or nothing when it comes to determining my “suitability” for a position, that a single administrator, perhaps influenced by a single persistent parent, can end my career with a single evaluation whose process is undefined. For a teacher who has diligently pursued Pro-D well beyond the allotted days, has applied countless hours devoted to becoming a better teacher, these notions are unacceptable.

I feel demoralized. Beat up. In this state, I don’t teach as well as I should. I wish legislators would realize this: that people perform best when they are respected, encouraged, and rewarded appropriately.

Teachers know that very well. Do you?


Yours sincerely….






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