Teaching journal: 😔

Laid off from the San Diego Unified School District

On Tuesday, March 12, I got a layoff notice from San Diego Unified School District. I was one of about 220 teachers across the district who received a notice that our services would not be needed next year.

I can’t say it’s a huge surprise, but it really, really sucks. Ever since talks of excessing teachers turned into laying off teachers, I knew it was only a time before my name was chosen.

On Monday, March 11—the day before—I got a calendar invite to meet with the two head honchos from the Multilingual Education Department. The meeting would be at my school site, in-person, in my classroom. 

For a brief moment, I thought maybe it could be good news. Perhaps due to my hard work, perseverance and grit, they were going to give me an award. Or maybe they have been so impressed with my performance that they were coming down to offer me a position. 

Lol. Jesus...an award? Sometimes I’m very dumb. 

No, they were coming to lay me off.

(On a side note, receiving this calendar invite on 3/11, the most sacred of holidays, is the least amount of chill).

The meeting was scheduled for afternoon, so I had to teach my two classes before the ax fell. In both classes, we read a story about a man and dog stranded on a sheet of floating ice in the Arctic. It’s part of our unit on “Survival”. I’m certain I didn’t teach it well. All I could think of was my impending doom. I felt disconnected from the lesson, kind of like I was in a boring but vaguely terrible dream. Did the kids pay attention? Did they learn anything? Who the fuck even knows. 

At the end of the story, the man and dog get rescued by a plane. How lucky, I thought. Glad things really worked out for them. 

Then, as scheduled, two higher-ups from the Multilingual Department arrived. We sat down and they asked me if I had heard about the layoffs. “I assume that’s why you’re here,” I said.

They let me know that based on criteria provided by the school district, I was one of the employees that would be affected by the layoffs. They emphasized that this was not a reflection of my performance, but it was just a matter of seniority. I would not be able to file an appeal. I would not be able to bid on jobs posted on the school district’s internal job board. They said that this was basically starting back to zero.

“Okay,” I said. “Okay, okay, okay.” Because those were the only words I could say without crying. 

They said that they were only the messengers. Of course. When you’re laid off by an entity as big as the San Diego School District there are really only messengers. That’s how it’s designed. It’s no one’s fault. It’s not personal. 

“Okay,” I said. “Okay, okay, okay.” 

They asked if I had any questions. “I can’t think of anything,” I said. They stood up and left. They didn’t say goodbye. I’m thankful they didn’t. 

When I was certain they were gone, I closed the classroom door and turned off the lights. That’s when I finally began to cry.

*

Teachers and colleagues tell me that the layoff will likely be rescinded. Almost everyone I’ve spoken to have said that they’ve gotten pink slips, only to receive an official “just kidding!” a few months later. It makes me feel a little better, but it’s hard to be optimistic right now.

One of the reasons I got out of journalism was because I wanted something stable. I wanted to stop hustling. I wanted a steady paycheck and benefits and a pension. Education may not be the highest paid profession, but, my god, the freedom from hustle, from vying for people’s attention, from checking metrics, from living life as a brand—it’s nothing short of profound. 

But I was mistaken: education is not stable. At least for those without seniority. Even during years without layoffs, how does the annual excessing build morale? How is it that so many teachers have experienced this exact same thing that it’s almost regarded as some perverse rite of passage? And why has it not changed? How, as a new teacher, does this instill anything except apathy toward the entire profession?

If and when the layoff gets rescinded, I’ll go back. But it’ll be different; I will be different. It’s difficult to be enthusiastic about the machine that you feed yourself into. Whenever I’m around veteran teachers—not all but some—I often think, How do you become so hardened? How did you lose your joy? How did you get so burnt out? 

And now I know. 

---

Highlights of the week 

I was too bummed out to do a regular journal this week, but I’ll get back to it next week. Still, there were some things that happened that must not go unreported. 

- Three of the girls (including Dancing Girl) have started calling me “Papa”. They think it’s hilarious. Me? Not a fan. 

- In class, we watched an episode of the Netflix nature documentary Our Planet to prepare for our field trip to the Birch Aquarium next week. When the episode ended, we had a lot of time left, so I tried to teach them the importance of David Attenborough (although I mistakenly called him Richard Attenborough). I did my best (see: worst) David Attenborough impression. I then busted out the candy and asked if anyone wanted to come up to the front of the class to try their David Attenborough impression. A lot of kids volunteered, but couldn’t get the Britishness down (a pretty advanced skill for English learners). One student, though, tried a raspy voice, and it sounded like Batman and it was beautiful. 

- During an all-staff meeting, our principal was talking about hall passes and how only one student is allowed out of class at a time. An older, male teacher raised his hand and said, “What about when it’s that time of the month?” Fucking teachers, man. #neverforget

- The day after I got laid off, one of the two heads at the Multilingual Education Department texted, asking how I was doing. Honestly, it meant a lot. It sucks that in all industries, HR dissuades superiors from saying anything that might indicate sympathy, but sometimes you just need to hear someone be human. 

- I also went to a union meeting. The union rep seemed pretty confident that these layoffs would eventually turn out to be bullshit, and his confidence made me feel better. I mean, I know it’s not certain, and with my luck I’ll be the only one of 200 teachers who doesn’t get their layoff rescinded. Still, I’m thankful that I have people fighting for my position. 

T-shirts

I still have a handful of these Enjoy Your Delicious Moments t-shirts yet. Not that I’m trying to guilt you into buying them, but it would cheer me up a little. No presh. If you’re interested, just Venmo $25 to Ryan-Bradford-2, and include your shipping address and size. I have all sizes except XXL. 

Trivia

This Thursday marks the one year anniversary of me hosting trivia at Nate’s Garden Grill. It’s been so fun, and I’m happy that I’ve even gotten a few regulars. I hope you can make it. I might bring a cake. 

Podcast

Finally, I had the honor of appearing on the Rock Docs Podcast last week. We talked about my first favorite band, Blind Melon, and the documentary about their lead singer, Shannon Hoon. The movie’s called All I Can Say, and it’s wonderful.