Reality, Hoovers and Other Things That Suck

It's amazing how quickly things can change.

Shortly after making my delightful post about the joys of being an AP, I was notified that my little jaunt into the world of administration, as thrilling a ride as it has been, is about to be over.

Now, don't misunderstand. I am not being punished for blogging. The timing is strictly coincidental. The facts are as follows:

The Florida state legislature, which is responsible for formulating the budget which eventually translates into my paycheck, is a slobbering bunch of dim-wits who can't balance their own checkbooks, much less a state budget. The people responsible for electing them are, in large part, elderly, and suffering from dementia. As a result, they not only elected the buffoons who decorate our state legislature, they compounded the problem by also approving amendment one, the combination of which has resulted in slashed school district budgets all over the state, turning struggling districts into disaster areas, and pushing successful schools toward mediocrity. Our school district is the perfect example.

We're in a tiny, rural district, with just 4 schools - but they've all been "A" schools for a very long time. We've got a system that works, supports kids, and produces awesome results. Almost 85% of our graduating class this year is headed for college. Our seniors racked up thousands of hours of college credits through the dual enrollment program. Our youngsters get to learn in small, focused classes with teachers who know them AND their parents, and the cracks are so narrow that very few students ever slip through them.

And yet, we have to go messing with what works. Because of the idiocy in our state legislature, and population here in "Heaven's Waiting Room" where folks don't care so much about the public school system, since their kids graduated 40 years ago, our school district is cutting 44 positions this year (mine included). Now I know, 44 doesn't sound like many - until you consider that it represents the ENTIRE faculty of one of our 4 schools. With 44 more people, we were all very busy.

In my school, I rarely had any down-time at all, and averaged a good 65-70 hour week most of the time, as did the other assistant principal with whom I worked. (And our principal easily averaged 80-90 hours, often being found at school on Sundays, when I do not work.) Yet next year, those same tasks which kept me busy will be piled upon someone else's plate. Not because I did an inadequate job - not because I was not a hard worker. Not because I offended someone and not, contrary to popular belief, because I'm not related to anyone in this tiny town. No, it happened for lack of money - entirely the fault of the morons we've elected to our legislature.

So am I a little bitter? Sure. I worked and studied and earned a second graduate degree to get this job. I uprooted my family and moved across the state for this job. And just a few months ago, confident and happy, I bought a house in this county to ensure my continued easy access to this job. So yes, I'm a little bitter. I love my school, and my district. I love the teachers and students I've worked with. And I'm even pretty darn fond of our school board and superintendent. I am not, at the moment, too fond of our legislature though. Frankly, I'm tempted to sue them.

What will I do now? Well, at the moment it looks like I'll be going back to the classroom - teaching a special education resource class in a local elementary school. Could I get another administrative position? Almost certainly. Am I willing to relocate to do so? Absolutely not.

Since we have moved to this tiny little county, my kids have found teachers who care about them, we've found a church that loves us, friends who make us feel welcome. We wake up to watch the sun rise, not over the back of the projects from which we came, not over the Burger King where we used to live, but over a gorgeous pasture full of cows. We listen to the birds sing while dew twinkles in the banana spider's web that is stretched across the gate. There are no sirens, and no smog. There is no anger and no fear. Life is, on the farm, the way God intended it to be.

So, even though my job was eaten by the self-absorbed bunch of simpletons in Tallahassee, I'm not packing my things and heading for Georgia. I'll stay, and I'll wait. Because life is good... and those idiots do have to get re-elected.

Here's to you, Senator Hoover. May your term be brief, and your briefs be infested.