So the open house went much better than I expected.  I didn't think any parents, guardians, or students would make the trek downstairs.  One of the Photo II students who came to print didn't think I was doing enough to get anyone down there.  I couldn't tell him that I could not leave them in the darkroom printing while I was upstairs directing people.  Luckily there were other students doing that.  It was real quiet for the first half hour.  I had about 6 students printing in the darkroom.  Then the deluge came.  There were tours being given and students brought prospective kids down.  They were led into the darkroom.  Parents reminisced about taking photo in the exact same darkroom when they were in high school.  The eighth graders asked questions.  The adults asked questions.  The kids were so excited to take this class when they get to high school.

The one part that I felt I could not do well in was when one parent with photo knowledge asked about our digital equipment.  He was duly impressed with our Epson printer and agreed with me that a plotter printer was not the best way to go.  But then he asked about cameras.  Well, we only have three Canon T3i cameras.  We have no supplemental lenses. I know damn well that that does not cut it.  I know I will never get the money to upgrade along with the technology at the same pace.  But I would like to have more updated cameras, extra lenses, and flashes for the DSLRs.  Will I get that?  Never.  The whole mindset about digital in a public school is that it is cheaper than film.  I know there are people here who want to get rid of the darkroom because it will save them money.  They are so wrong.  If they do that, I will demand the latest cameras and lenses, filters, flashes, slaves for flashes, etc..  That demand will be due to the fact that we have parents in the district who know what to expect when it comes to digital.  None of those demands will be for my personal gain.  They will be for the students.  So, basically, I could not tell this father that we do not have the latest digital imaging equipment but hey, we have a first rate football team!  I just told him that most of the kids have their own DSLRs at home (a lie).  I don't think he liked the answer, but he liked the darkroom.

So all in all, the open house was a success.  It was like a party.  I actually wish I could have open darkroom sessions for my kids more often.  If the school would pay me, I would be willing to do it once a month.  I say I want to be paid, not because I am money hungry, but because it was exhausting and I need to look out for myself.  I have been taken advantage for too long here.

So I posted online that I had an open darkroom session and a lot of former students wanted to know if they could come print.  Due to liabilities, they cannot.  Then I looked for open darkrooms in North Jersey.  There used to be one in Jersey City - you go and rent the space for hourly sessions and print to your heart's content.  Well, there are no open darkrooms in New Jersey at all.  As a matter of fact, the closest ones are in Brooklyn and that is not worth the hike.  There is a site where you can post your space (public or private darkroom) or post if you are in need of darkroom facilities.  There are three people who posted they want darkroom facilities to use.  There is a need.  Why isn't anyone filling it?

Food for thought.....

Tonight is our open house.  I have readied myself for the evening - sign is made, the call has been put out to my advanced students that they can come in and print in an open darkroom session.  Will anyone show up?  If it goes like last year's call for videos, not a soul will show up.  So to be prepared, I will be bringing some of my own negatives and paper in case my students flake out.  Will I be disappointed? Yes.  Will I be surprised at the disappointment?  No.  I am used to it.  Does it hurt?  Yeah, it keeps on hurting.  I student taught with women who cared deeply for their students.  I learned from an advisor who cared deeply about her college students.  I went to the wrong places.  If I learned from people like those I grew up with, I would be more selfish and I would be hurt by the disappointments less.  Oh well.

So Things are really unpredictable here.  There is a great push for this criminal justice program - because, hey, this country needs more cops - and we have lost a number of kids to coercion to take one of those courses.  Of course, the true measure of the success of a program is how many kids you have pressured to take the stupid class, right?  As such, our numbers might go down.  As I have said before, I know they want my rooms.  But the problem is I am second in line in seniority in my department.  I am higher than a couple of the ass-kissers.  They will never be RIF'd.  I can't be unless the four under me are.  That presents administration with a problem.  How to get rid of me?  Well, make life miserable.  Take committee positions away from me.  Make me feel insignificant.  

In preparation for this, I have begun to look for a project.  I have begun looking for fixer-uppers in Italy in my maternal hometowns.  My mother has already made two calls and let one agent know I am interested.  My original desire was Hungary, but Orban is wrecking the country right now and I fear the tensions will not get better.  So, Italy it is.  I never had good back up plans to ensure my happiness growing up.  It was one let down after another.  Now, I am better prepared.  If I know I might be pushed out - and I do know how to see those signs because I was a replacement for a woman who was slowly and systematically pushed out of another district - at least I will be monetarily and emotionally prepared.

Lest you think I am swimming in money, I am not at all. This area of Italy is seen by some as a backwater.  It is cheap as all hell.  I have students with cars that cost more than these homes.  My idea?  It will be a vacation home for me, hubby, dad, and my sister and her kids.  Will the brother-in-law be allowed to go there?  That depends on whether he can muster the ability to go a family gathering without making some cruel dig at me.

I must also make a concerted effort to create my art more.  I will begin painting again.  I will continue drawing.  And I must shoot more.  I have some ideal swimming around my head but have been too depressed to get off the sofa to bring them to fruition.  I need to do this.  Badly.  I get a high from making art.  But the depression is so deep that it anchors me to the sofa when I am home.  I need to make my new art site and I need to make more submissions.  This is my homework.   And house shopping.  It's better than focusing on this place that is pulling me down.

Teaching a special is not easy.  You have to constantly prove the validity of your subject.  When I was first teaching, the state was piloting tests at the 4th, 8th, and 11th grade levels.  That was done away with.  It turns out that to test a program, you have to be willing to fund it sufficiently and NJ does not want to fully fund every single school district or their fine and performing arts programs.

So not only did it take me four years to find a permanent full time art job, but I now have to prove the relevance of my program every year.  I have already written about how I ended up teaching photography, so I do not need to explain why I have a double threat to my program: from both outside and inside my department.

So when our school starts to lose kids to the local vo-tech, we mobilize to show why we are the better choice.  Are we the better choice in all areas?  No.  We have no practical arts - automotive, plumbing, construction, electrical education are all gone.  However, when it comes to the fine and performing arts, we are better than much or what is around.  Beyond that, I have to show why my photo program is worth coming here for and worth keeping as is - darkroom and all.

So last year, our department put toge3ther a YouTube channel.  We each put a call out for videos from former students.  We wanted them to talk about what our art program did for them.  Considering all I do for my students, both before and after graduation, I thought I might get a few.  When I had about 20 kids say they would send me something, I was tickled pink.  I was excited to hear what they had to say.  I rarely get a heartfelt thank you from any kids.  I think I got one last year.  Then the date loomed closer and nothing.  By the time we needed them, I got two.  Two whole videos. A third student let me know he was too busy with his school work to put something together, and I appreciated his effort.

Out of all the kids for whom I have written recommendation letters (well over 100), post graduation letters for grant or job applications, portfolio advice for those changing majors, camera advice, business advice, heck, even logos created gratis by me for their businesses.  Out of all that, all I got was two f*cking videos.  So what am I going this week?  I am volunteering to be here to have my darkroom open for the 8th grade open house.  I have some boys who are going to print as demo people.  I am holding an open darkroom session for two hours.  It benefits the kids who will be printing and hopefully keeps my program going - saves it from the chopping block for a wee bit longer.  Do I want to be here?  Not really.  I have started a new medication and it makes me tired as all hell.  By 8.00 PM I am falling asleep.  Do I have a choice?  On paper, I do.  But realistically, I do not.  I know my program is good.  The kids know it is good.  But that is not enough here.  They want my space and my money and I have few people on my side here, including my former students.

The past few years have been nothing but let downs.  I have had a fabulous time with my kids and have seen a growth in creativity this last year or so, but it just is not enough anymore.  I want someone to say "thank you" and mean it sincerely.  I want someone to give back what I give to them.  Some of us teachers are treated like absolute sh*t here - partially because we are women - and our kids are our only bit of happiness.  I do not like the fact that I am fighting for this program alone, but that will not change here.

So when I was at a workshop with the Human Rights Institute last year, I ate lunch with a Holocaust and Genocide teacher from somewhere in central Jersey.  It was post presidential election and I asked a question about how to deal with the ramifications of the election and what we are trying to teach the students as far as lessons from the Holocaust and genocides over history.  He seemed to not see a problem with the election results regarding oppression of any group or the ensuing spread of hate.  The conversational lunch stopped dead in its tracks.  I had a very uneasy feeling from him after my comment and question.

Then I got to thinking about all the hundreds of kids from where I teach who proudly go through the same class.  Then I think about the things I see them post online.  And I wonder if there is a disconnect.  But it could have been my paranoid opinion taking over.

Then I read this article in The Guardian:

https://www.theguardian.com/teacher-network/2016/jan/27/do-we-need-to-rethink-how-we-teach-the-holocaust

Yes, the article addresses deficiencies in the British program, but I see parallels.  There seems to be a good understanding of why the Holocaust and genocides are horrible, no idea of what led to such events.  This quote says it well:

“The Holocaust is too often turned into vague lessons of the danger of hatred or prejudice at the expense of really trying to understand the reasons and motivations for the genocide.”

Our students are not understanding the attitudes and manipulations that lead to the societal behaviours and beliefs that can allow a genocides to happen.  They believe specific individuals and major players in history books are the sole reason or impetus.  That is so far from the truth.  I can tell because of how many H&G alumni have the same kinds of behaviours:  believing generalizations about members of society; repeating stereotypes about who is the victim and who is the taker; beliefs about themselves being a part of an oppressed part of society, when their race is the one doing the oppressing.

What is the benefit of Holocaust education in any country or school if the students are not learning lessons about what led up to the event?  What are they really learning if those who survived a genocide are giving warning signals that things seem familiar but teachers of that class play devil's advocate for the oppressing side or do not want to engage in a discussion of the events happening around us?

We are teaching our students nothing but fake awareness.  But it sure looks good on paper.

I walk around here with a smile on my face. I had such a horrible school experience when younger, one of my aims was to make sure none of my students have that same experience.  It is getting hard to keep up the façade again.

I worked in a few different photo-related fields before getting my teaching certificate.  I was a photo researcher/librarian for a famous paparazzo and for a major sports organization.  I was also an assistant photo editor for a weekly and monthly TV magazine in New York. 

The paparazzo I worked for was a grumpy old man who was a cuddly bear inside.  He was fine to work for.  He trusted us gals to do our jobs and never bothered us.  His wife?  Well, she was a nasty woman to the extreme.  Phenomenally fake.  However, if you hid from her in the photo stacks and just did your job, you were OK.  She saved most of her nastiness for the publications editors.  We gals who worked in that basement stuck together.  The one gal who kissed butt was not a part of our group.  We had a camaraderie that made working there fun, regardless of how busy or not busy we would be.  Plus, the husband and wife had bunnies who lived on the same floor that we worked on.   I liked that job.

I worked for the NBA for six years, including when I started teaching.  I thought it would be nasty.  I was female.  I don't like sports.  However, I am a hard worker.  That is what mattered there.  Yes, there were people who had their jobs due to personal connections.  Yet, they worked as hard as the rest of us.  If you were given a position there and you did not work, you stood out like a sore thumb.  If you proved yourself, you were urged to move up.  I was given opportunities to move up, but I chose to focus on teaching.  It was the most egalitarian place I ever worked.  Female?  Gay?  Short? Hated basketball?  A freak?  It did not matter.  If you worked hard, they liked you and treated you with respect.  They treated me well.  Very well.  And I do not mean monetarily.  It is known in the sports agency field that you do not work for the money - there is little unless you play - but for a love of the game.  I still dream about that job.  I wake up smiling.

I worked for a now defunct TV magazine in New York City.  I hated the commute - 12 hour days - and the job was sooooo boring.  I was friends with the mail room guy and the receptionists.  I was told that publishing is the most cutthroat business in the city.  Your best friend would sell you out for a chance to advance.  I saw a little of that.  I thought it was clique-y.  I did not belong. But it was not a bad job.  My editor treated me like crap, but she did that to everyone before me.  The chief editors knew this and I was the last person they let her do that to.  They knew there was a problem and dealt with it.  She improved her treatment of the assistants after me.

I worked in four districts before I came here.  I was taken advantage of in my first permanent job.  I was half time and was given tons of stuff to do with no regard for prep time.  The union did nothing for me.  My third district was a dream.  I saw how a truly well run district operates.  When the Board of Education, the Superintendent, administration, teachers, and parents/guardians all put the students first, you have a well run district.  I loved it there even though it was not my chosen grade level.  All levels respected each other there.  No teacher was looking to undercut a colleague.  No admin was seeking revenge on a teacher for not playing along.  There was nothing to undercut someone for.  There was no need for revenge.  Differences in opinion were respected.  It was understood that we all cared about the kids first, so every suggestion or idea was listened to and considered.  This was a strict that banded together when the board was stacked with people who did not care for anything but their own advancement.  The residents banded together and replaced those individuals with people who cared about the kids first.  I cried when I was let go.  The kids cried too.  I don't say that to be selfish or big headed.  We all cared about each other that much.  I was a maternity leave coverage and the woman wanted back.  So basically, I know how well a school district can be run.  I have some experience.

And now I am here.  I love my students so much.  I love what I do.  15 years here.  Four years teaching Sculpture, and now my 11th year teaching Photography.  This job is not getting old.  I still do a little skip inside when I see how happy the kids are at their first developed roll of film.  (8 out of 8 successful rolls yesterday!)  But this place is killing me.  I am now on two different medications.  The air quality in the Sculpture room is partly to blame for my asthma progressing from exercise-induced to full blown years ago.  This place is killing all the best teachers.  The only way to get ahead is to kiss ass.  Kissing ass does not make one a good teacher.  As a matter of fact, all the time spent devising ways to do that is time taken away from doing for the students.  I have learned abut what goes on in the classrooms of those who kiss up.  I have supplemented the teaching of many of their kids, without their knowledge.  They create the aura of being a challenging/hard teacher.  It is just an aura, no substance.   I am a good worker.  I come in two hours before clock in time.  I work through my lunch. I check my e-mail over the weekends and holidays.  I am there for my students and colleagues 24/7.  The only thing that keeps me disconnected is that I do not have a smart phone.  I have volunteered for countless committees and contribute to those committees, rather than just warm a seat.  However, I see that I have been left out of the DEAC - no representation of the specials on a committee that picks the next evaluation system.  I was on the first ScIP.  According to the state legislation, the members are to rotate.  No member is on the committee for two consecutive years. Tell that to my administration.  I have had ideas taken from me and passed off as one's own (class dues to pay for the yearbook, a garden club, and so on).  Under that creep JW, I had to deal with the threat of losing my darkroom every single year.  Now I have a sweet employee who tells me that my room will be another room for the Bergen County program in a bit.  But no worries.  I could use the little darkroom in room 148.  Yes, the one that fits 4 kids at most.

Then there are the little revenge bits that chip away at every fiber of your being.  Those of us who have been treated as such here all know the method:  administration or colleagues do little things that individually seem minor.  However, when done repeatedly, they pile up.  It is a systematic way of doing horrible things to us to break us down while making us seem paranoid for taking things to heart.  It is a form of gas lighting.  If we complain about our treatment, we are told we are taking it personally or are making a big deal of nothing.  However, these things are done to the same people over and over.  It is not a mistake,  It is how previous administrations did things and it carries on.  Oh, and did I mention all us victims are female?  This place would have one helluva gender discrimination class action problem if everyone had the guts to take action.

Instead, we all talk and talk about it.  We grumble.  We add to the list of doctors we have to see.  We take more and more medication.  We cry.  We slam doors and throw things in anger.  We try to find the time for creative outlets and social endeavors.  And we teach and love our students as best as we can given our situations.

I am involved in some political organizations both in my town and regionally.  One person involved in our local group is now the leader of an LGBT caucus.  The caucus had its first event yesterday.  It was in town so hubby and I walked down, since the weather was so nice.  The restaurant is in an old train station and you get to the other side of the tracks via an underground tunnel.  We come to the end of the tunnel and there is a policeman coming out of the restaurant's foyer into the tunnel.  We say our hello's and go upstairs to the shindig. We figured the cop was there to say "hi" to someone he knew who worked there.  We were way off.

It turns out the police department thought it would be a good idea to have police presence at the event for protection.  As a volunteers in the town, hubby and I have been to many dinners and parties held by organizations here.  There was never a need for police presence.  Until now.  This was an LGBT event.  Held in a conservative town in a conservative county.  When we moved here, there was a second floor apartment above a store on Main Street that had a confederate flag in the window.  We now have a gay mayor and a gay alderman.  Need I say more?

So while we were being social and meeting and talking to people, the need for protection left my brain.  The event was so nice.  The food was good, the vibe was friendly.  In addition, the event raised a ton of money for the caucus and the work they plan on doing.

Then we left and there was the cop, at the door, protecting us.  Protecting us from the types of people that have been given free reign to express and act upon years of built up hatred toward people who have never done a thing to hurt them.  Let me be clear, the police presence had nothing to do with the couple of legislators there to speak.  It was obvious that this kind of gathering could be a target for someone who hates this population and those of us who support them.

I am getting very emotionally and physically tired of dealing with the way things are right now.  I am supposed to let my students and GSA kids know things will be OK, but I am lying through my teeth.