185

The buildings are empty, and the teachers gather in the hallways to talk for the first time in months for periods longer than a minute, because the periods themselves: the bells, chimes, and other sonic boundaries that define our days, are no more.

The tide of students has ebbed for the last time, flowing out into the stream of buses that carry it away, and the silence is vast. Teachers talk in a relaxed, leisurely way about their summer plans: a few working summer school, some traveling, others planning further study, almost everyone working in some way to get extra income. This year, because of staffing cuts, far too many conversations in which you say goodbye to wonderful people and fine teachers that you have worked with for years, knowing with some disquiet you will be returning to a school that has cut drama, visual arts, photography, and music, and wondering what that means to the kids.

Teachers understand the slight unease we all feel in the summer: it is wonderful to rest, to know that we can recharge our batteries, that we can be with our families in both mind and body (because during the year the energy output required to be a good teacher often leaves our families with a drained hulk at the dinner table). But we also know, that all this time, we might be getting a paycheck, but we are not earning money.

I went to the coffee shop to get my last cup of the year, chatting with the wonderful people who keep me conscious during the school day, when that idea fully struck me. I was saying it is nice to look forward to a little time to recharge, and the barista said something along the lines of “Well, we still need to come to work.” And it struck me. People don’t know our summers are not a paid vacation. I told her we essentially get laid off every June, and are rehired each September. She thought for a second and said: “That’s not good.”

How that would transform the image of the teacher fishing, lying in a hammock, or taking longs naps, while the taxpayer continues to foot the bill! Yes, that’s right. We don’t earn any money during the summer. We get paid for 185 work days. There are 260 in a year. We know we only get paid for the days we work, but very few other people do. I wonder who wants to keep it that way? Who profits by that perception?