Thursday, July 03, 2008


Ten years ago, I began my first career as a high school teacher for English, speech, and debate. Although I loved the kids and the teaching, and although my certificate is still good for another 2 years, I will probably never go back. Why? Because of the foot-high pile of papers that I lugged around with me like a body chained to my back.

They had their own cart, and no matter how many I did in front of Frasier and Friends, during the holidays, in the middle of the night, at the movies, and my peak performance, at Monday Night Football against the Dolphins, still they grew. It was all necessary, of course. The kids had to learn to write somehow. But that is a special kind of torture that few other professions, including other subjects within teaching, possess.

Flash forward to today, four steps, ten pay grades, and two field changes later, and I just realized yesterday: I still grade papers for a living.

Hold me.


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