To Tell the Truth

Photo by Claudio Schwarz on Unsplash

It’s been two and a half years since I retired from education. So this is the third September that I won’t have a “Back to School” night. Thank God.

There are many things I don’t miss about my former employment, but what I do miss is the camaraderie of my co-workers or cell-mates, as I like to think of them (yes, I exaggerate).

Some September conversations sounded like this:

“Can I copy your goal statement?”

“Don’t they already give us one?”

“I still need to sign off on the health list.”

“Should we have an open house for teachers - and have no one come again?”

“What committee did they put you in?”

“There are bagels in the faculty room. Hurry up before the good ones are gone.”

“Did you bring your lunch?”

“What are we going to be for Halloween?”

The daily routine, the pledge of allegiance, do I have to stand up if no one is around?

I even miss the arguments, the team meetings, cursing the administration, complaining about parents, and, of course, I miss the kids.

What I don’t miss is the ignorance of special education law by the teachers, parents, and administrators. Being a dumping ground for any child whose grade is below a “C.” Parents who want their kids to go to Ivy League schools and think we can “fix” them. The threat of a lawsuit, having to testify in court. Not having the time to do your job as well as you could because of all the bullshit and bureaucratic red tape. Being so tired at the end of the day that all you can do is stare at Netflix for three hours, or fall asleep as soon as you get home, and wake up to cereal for dinner.

What I don’t miss the most is having to spin information and being told to do something that is not your truth - having to be medicated to get through the day.

Truth is really overrated, don’t you think? How far can you go telling the truth? Remember when telling a lie was wrong? “I lied to my parents” was probably the first confession made to the priest in that musty box with a purple cushioned kneeler, along with “I was mean to my sister.” It was simple. Tell the truth and treat people kindly.

No one should be afraid to tell the truth. But that’s not how it works down here in the world. I see it more and more every day. Lies become truth and rule the home, the institutions, the world. Pretty soon you don’t know what’s the truth and what’s a lie.

I hope that I am truthful as I write this post, or newsletter, as Substack calls it. Being open and vulnerable is a journey I take willingly. For years, I was not willing, and I didn’t want you to know me. In fact, I was a liar. To you and to myself. Is it fear? or pride? or both? I just want to tell the truth, and in doing so, help some of my fellows who travel with me.

“Take what you need and leave the rest,” as they say. Or, the other way I like to say it, “Eat the chicken and spit out the bones!”