The Evolution of a Teacher

The school district's administration offices were located on the top of a hill which formerly housed a Nike Missile Site. An empty underground silo was steps away from the former HQ building and now the school's administrations building. I entered the reception area, telling the receptionist/secretary I had an appointment. I was somewhat taken aback by the lady who had a cigarette in her mouth, and had a wheezy man's voice. After coughing for a spell, she informed me he'd be with me in a few minutes, "So sit down and wait." Because of her demeanor I wondered what I had gotten into, when the assistant superintendent, the one who had interviewed me, came out of his superior's office. When he spotted me, he smiled and said, "We've been waiting for you," and ushered me into the office. The head administrator had been the district superintendent for several years and was approaching or was the age of retirement. He went over my teaching contract, explaining my duties, expectations and pay schedule. I had 30 hours beyond the required 180 credits required to teach, plus I had been told that I could start at the third year of experience because I had served three years in the army. I was also granted extracurricular pay for coaching debate and directing plays. The head man balked at the army experience counting for teaching experience, saying, "You can only get credit for the army years if it interrupted your college education and you were drafted. Do you qualify under either of these conditions?" I smelled a skunk - called "bait and switch." I had been promised two years experience for the three years in the service when I interviewed with the assistant superintendent, so objected. The difference in pay would be significant, plus every other district I had talked to, said that I would receive two years experience credit. "Well, I'm sorry, but we can't give you credit," he said, "so you'll have to take it or leave it." Looking at the assistant, I protested, saying, "You told me I'd get the service credit, didn't you!" Looking at his boss, he replied, "Yes, I told him he'd receive credit, sir." "Well, our policy is only if someone is drafted out of college, will he receive credit for time served in military service." I'd received my share of bullying and B.S. shelled out by my superiors in the army and other jobs I'd had, so called the Super's bluff. "Well, I've got a job guaranteed, including service credit that wants me to sign next week. No credit from you means I take the other contract." "Go sit in the reception area, while I talk with my assistant," said the Super, "and we'll see if we can work out something." Taking leave of their discussion, I walked to the waiting area where my beautiful pregnant wife was reading a well-worn magazine. "They are trying to get out of paying service credit," I explained, "but they're talking it over, since it was promised me in the interview. If I don't get it, I'll sign with Tacoma." I could hear the renegers having a spirited conversation , but felt fairly certain I'd get what had been promised. I knew that I was a rare commodity because schools having drama and debate couldn't just go out and find somebody like me. If I didn't, get the job here, there were several districts closer to my home who wanted to snap me up to teach English or language arts subjects. Within five minutes the Assistant came out and told me I had the contract the way I wanted it. When I walked back to the Super's office, he looked disgruntled. "We will include the experience credit; however, keep it to yourself . Sign at the bottom of the contract and we'll expect you to report for duty at the high school two days before the start of classes. Welcome to our school district," he said as he extended his hand. I sensed he had to force a slight smile, but not enough to show his teeth. I examined the contract, noting the agreed-to credit was not there. In the recent past I had gone through an unpleasant time dealing with the Veteran's Administration and found that if I didn't have something in writing before I signed anything I'd go through months of rigmarole trying to get things straightened out. "Thank you for honoring our original agreement; however, I would like the contract retyped with the change before I sign. If it's not convenient, I could come back on Monday." "Boy, you're pretty persistent, aren't you?, said the Super. I sure as hell hope you're worth all the trouble. I'll have my secretary retype it," he said as he brushed past me to the smoking lady. Agnes, type this with the insertion of two years experience on the pay scale." Placing her smoking cigarette in an already full ashtray, she went to a file cabinet, found a teaching contract and rolled it into her electric typewriter. I thought my wife was a fast typist, but this lady obviously had typed lots of contracts, and only moments later she had it completed and ready for my inspection. The cigarette in the ashtray had barely burned a quarter of an inch in the meantime. With all the jots and tittles taken care of, I signed.