The adult school called yesterday to let me know that they don’t have any classes for me to teach this year. I felt like the tethers were being cut. At the same time, the insecurity of my whole life situation was bumped up a few notches. Another piece of my life liberated into the dark unknown.
I am supposed to have a job, but I had been secretly dreading the call for me to return to work. The cheerful voice of my supervisor on the phone had me thinking my life was going to revert to last year’s program, which I was going to cheerfully accept, as I am a teacher after-all. Instead, she cheerfully told me that they had nothing for me. I am not sure if it was because funds were cut (as is in the yearly recipe) or if they just decided to give my class to someone that “fits.” I am pretty sure the latter was at least partially responsible. My class still exists and last month they advertised a position on the site, that no one mentioned to me. Did they see through my professional façade and discover the truth; that deep down I would rather gut fish in Alaska that teach in a “professional” bureaucracy? I could at least taste freedom working long hours for shit pay on a boat. Professionalism tends to own us, forcing us to not only pimp out our bodies, but our minds as well. And of course to be a professional these days just means you jump though hoops and log in hours in a classroom to get your piece of paper that says you are a professional, NOT that you are actually good at anything.
No teaching job. What does that mean? I am no longer a “teacher?” Everyone always said I would make a great teacher. Don’t I need a teaching “job” to be a teacher? Am I a hack if I just share knowledge, skills, experience, insight? Luckily, I have been blessed to have friends divulge, unsolicited, what it is that I have taught them just by being what I am, doing what I do and saying what I say. The greatest teachers in my life have just been curious learners and researchers that liked to share and listen; and that strive to constantly change and grow. Free Skools have always been a source of inspiration to me.
Teachy teachers drive me nuts. In the group of teachers with whom I most recently worked, the unsolicited advice ran thick as pea soup. And god forbid if one (me) were to tell the teachy teachers that their advice is unneeded… ”Oh, of course it is (even if you don’t know it, we all know I am more competent/experienced than you are)” or “I was just trying to help (miss know-it-all).”
Not being called back to teach removes me from my current profession. Amazingly, that sounds nice to me…being removed from my profession. But how to survive? For now I get my unemployment. Truth is that, right now, I couldn’t survive within this capitalist socio-economic system without government “handouts” or a bread-winning head-of-household man. The elite and upper class create and perpetuate this system that benefits themselves not the rest of us. Welfare programs are not about charity or social welfare, but are used, along with the middle-class buffer (which hasn’t existed throughout much of history) in order to avoid social upheaval and class war (brace yourself). A look into Western history, clearly demonstrates that when social welfare programs are decimated and the middle-class shrinks, the upper-classes have a tussle on their hands. Where the poor and dispossessed are able to eek out the basic necessities of life and the middle-class is a good healthy size, the rich always have an easier time usurping the societies and natures resources. Unfortunately our social and environmental resources are disappearing but greed is not.
Am I getting off track? The thing is that I can’t hold down a regular job. I couldn’t do it when it was only me, and I definitely can’t do it now that I am the sole caretaker of a young child. I used to think I could do anything if I put my mind to it. Once upon a time, I was considered incapacitated, for emotional and mental reasons, but I did believe I could work if I really wanted to. I am no longer considered incapacitated, but I can tell you I am now very sanely sure that I can not hold a regular job. I can not accept the rat race in lieu of meaningful work. And it isn’t because I am lazy; I work all the time. For example, yesterday I did some writing, I practiced the bass AND guitar, I cleaned the house, I dug up all the blackberry bushes from the backyard, I minded a friends child, I researched the cultivation of cherry trees, planned a garden bed, mothered, and even got a little bit of paid work done.
So I use the tools I have at my disposal to live a bearable, meaningful, and even joyful life. I don’t get straight up welfare, but benefit from other programs that help me circumvent the need for money. If I don’t judge my friends who work in finance and own stocks, I don’t see how anyone could judge me for using our tax dollars to live a full creative life.
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