Been awhile since I wrote something here. Of course, now that I’m NO LONGER TEACHING, now would be the perfect time to start posting about it again, right? Wrong. Instead I’ll just go and talk about something else:
The unemployment rate in this country is at a maddeningly high level right now. I read an article awhile back that the current market for teachers to find work is the worst it’s been since the Great Depression. I’ve literally been applying everywhere I find a job posting save for three states: Michigan, Wisconsin, and Ohio. Those of you in the know realize why I wouldn’t apply in those states. Those of you not in the know, please put down your beer bongs, turn of Dancing with the Stars, and pick up a newspaper and read up on the antics of the governors of those respective states. For fuck’s sake…
I’ve put in applications in at places I never considered before. My short list, without referring to the legal pad I have covered with scribbles in my car, is: NC, SC, AZ, MN, IN, ME, MA, ND, AK, CA, WA, OR, and a few others that I can’t readily think of right now. In short, it’s been between 30-50 applications so far. These are not your standard job applications, either. Most of the time they involve answering several essay-format questions. A couple of weeks ago, I did an app that wanted me to complete 12 short essays. It took me four hours and when I clicked “submit” on the final page, the entire thing evaporated because during the time it took me to fill in the blanks, the school district in question *coughEDINAcough* had pulled the application.
During all this hard work, I’ve been doing the necessary background stuff: cold calls to district offices asking about the job, emailing teachers within the district, and Googling information all over the damn place to try and brush up on my “knowledge” should they ever ask me in an interview. The only replies I’ve been getting have been “Please await contact from the school district human resources personnel.” I get no email or phone contact other than the automated responses I get when I finish the applications…
…until today…
Today I got the first round of what I have learned to call FOAD emails. FOAD = Fuck off and die. They’re every so polite messages sent from a computer that’s programmed to fill in your name into a message to make it look like it was tailored to you personally. They’re rejection letters, plain and simple. Once I get these, I cross that particular district off my list and search for a new application to fill the gap left by the one I got rid of. Today I got five emails, which is a step forward from the first time I ever applied for a teaching job. I didn’t get any FOAD messages until mid-September after the school year was already in session. That was a fun day, let me tell you. I got over 200 messages over the course of a two day span. Ridiculous.
Anyway…the application process is not fun. It’s basically a way to build anxiety in your own mind about your current job situation while you sit and wait patiently for “the call,” that might give you a slim chance at an interview. There are thousands of teachers out there right now, and I am just one of many. It is that anxiety that literally drove me to a state of near-madness and forced me here to a small town on the Michigan/Wisconsin border to visit my parents and try to unwind the choking cord that has been my mind for awhile now. It’s nice here: quiet, boring, smells nice, and my mom has a dog. I left my Xbox and all other distractions back home in Minnesota so that I can concentrate on completing as many applications as possible in as short a time as possible. Some apps are easier than others, and I’d like to give a massive amount of kudos to the state of North Carolina for their teacher job databank. All I do is access this state-wide net of jobs, type in my personal info, upload a resume and a neutral cover letter, along with my letters of recommendation, and click the boxes next to each job I’d like to apply for. Fast, easy, and there’s not a single essay question in sight.
Diversion over for now, though. I’m being given another cup of coffee by a young girl whom I taught during my student teaching, but doesn’t recognize me.
Your Kids are Assholes 