“Americans no longer talk to each other, they entertain each other. They do not exchange ideas, they exchange images. They do not argue with propositions; they argue with good looks, celebrities and commercials.”― Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business
Strange as it may seems if you've heard me talk about the comfort of anonymity and my desire to live on a mountaintop far, far away from people, I'm a conversationalist at heart. This paradoxical identity as both someone who wants to be a faceless body on the crowded streets of New York and the only face you're actually focused on while engaged in conversation is embodied within me. It's probably why my dream is to just be able to read all day long - a conversation with someone that isn't there, but that can be accessed as easily as flipping open a page. But truly, I do enjoy unadulterated conversations with the people I feel comfortable enough to reveal more personal details about myself, and most importantly, with people who are actively listening. Being able to express whatever pops into my head without self-censorship births flow and I'm willing to ride it out until the end, even if it means being vulnerable. In the barest way, my desire is to be able to think aloud and express myself without encountering judgment.
As much as I hate being at work sometimes, it helps me think so much more than being at home. Yet, there is no denying the need for a two month break after the intense intellectual stimulation of being a public school teacher for ten months every year [...that's what's wrong with every other profession in America - there's not enough meaningful time off. Everyone's annoyed at teachers for having the time we do in the summer. And to everyone I say - the answer isn't to take it away from us, it's to get it for yourselves, too]. Besides dealing with pedagogy, each day I take on the responsibility of 100's of someone else's children - teaching them subject content, yes, but also life skills and on top of that, keeping them safe. I don't take any of that lightly.
There are a lot of jobs that can be broken down like I just did to teaching -especially in ways that make them sound heroic and deserving of praise. But that's not actually what I was trying to elicit from the reader here. There's no need to praise me for choosing a job that I enjoy doing. The point is that humans themselves are amazing and capable beings, and we all express our capabilities differently. Unfortunately, as a society, we tend to oppress the shit out of each other through societal norms. Completely abstract notions of what is "good" and "valuable" replace what is good and valuable for thriving as a living being in this world. The ol' Protestant work ethic should have withered away long ago, because it's neither relevant in a society where we could begin automating so many menial tasks nor in one where if wealth was (re)distributed more evenly, it would erase the need for such an endlessly demanding stream of "productiveness" from everyone.
Productive by whose standards? Is sitting at a desk crunching numbers more productive and valuable to society than digging trenches for water pipes? Clearly not, but we've abstracted worth and meaning to support intellectual tasks so much more so than physical ones. Teaching is one of those unusual professions that straddle a line - there's a huge intellectual component and on the other hand, this wholly practical one of being a member of a community that contributes to the raising of children. And that practical side has led teachers to be set apart from other educated professionals, as a "lesser" sort. Plus, the preponderance of women in the profession - 77% female in public schools nationwide - adds an additional layer of disregard in a patriarchy [Ooh, yes, the United States is indeed still a patriarchy - there are obvious improvements to conditions women experience on a whole, but let's not live in a world where we see those successes and hang up our picket signs for good. Women's success is still measured by how well she fits into a man's world].
As a teacher, ultimately what I want to cultivate for those present in my room is the space to explore thoughts without ridicule. If I ever do leave teaching, it's the access to so many conversations that I will miss most. Each school year, each class, each student, is an opportunity for a new relationship, and therefore, a new conversation. On top of that, as a history teacher, I want students to be in discussion with the past because not only does it make it more personal, but it could help people feel more invested in participating in the dialogue of society and politics. If they can leave my room with the understanding that there is more to explore on any front, I'd chalk it up to a win.
