On Tuesday, I received an email with a link to a YouTube video from the superintendent of our hometown, where my daughter is a kindergartener. I thought maybe it was a holiday message. Had there been an incident we hadn’t heard about?
I was not prepared for the message. The superintendent explained that due to cuts at the state level and difficulties negotiating with unions, she would be laying off 40 teachers in January. I rewatched the video, thinking I must have misheard the message. Who lays teachers off midyear? What other options had been explored?
At a loss for what I could do, one lone worried parent, not one to voluntarily get involved in conflict or controversary- I drafted a letter to the superintendent. I felt better. I felt like maybe my opinions, my voice could matter.
When I told my husband about it and asked if he thought I should send the email, he said “as long as you’re prepared for the repercussions.” That wasn’t the response I was hoping for. I saved the draft and sat on it for a few days.
On Saturday morning, a list of the proposed teacher cuts leaked through social media. Nine reading specialists, all of the elementary library media specialists, a handful of classroom teachers, as well as special area and a slew of teachers at the secondary level.
As I let the news sink in and as I thought about all of the implications, so many emotions rose up inside. I see the problem from the array of lenses involved. The town, the teachers, the parents. But the lens that had me most perturbed was that of the students. How do you explain to kids that the only solution to a monetary problem is to take away people, classes, and supports that are now a part of their daily lives? How do you explain to kids that their school librarian no longer works in their school? Her job wasn’t important enough. Same for some of the reading teachers. Band. PE. Oh, classroom teachers too. That community you’re finally settling into, will be shaken up come mid January.
Fired up once again, I went to the drafts folder in my email and reread my letter. I fixed it up a bit and then saved again without sending. But it kept calling to me. I opened the email one last time and hit send before I had time to rethink the decision again. My words were out there and I wasn’t ready to stop there. I revised and reworked the letter and sent it to every town council member, board of education member, and the mayor.
I usually write to recount joy. But this week I’m writing to have my voice heard. It may not make a difference but it feels better than having those words live in my draft email folder.
I am glad you sent the letter! How hard for everyone to have that to be the resolution to budget decisions. I hope you share your feelings of glad you wrote to get your voice heard with your students- it shows them that there are many reasons for writing.
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I am so glad you pushed send! This post is a great example of the importance of raising your voice to be heard through writing. The process you went through while deciding whether to push send or not was also important to share. Words have power–use them wisely, not impulsively. I’m so sorry for the terrible situation in that district and for all those affected.
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It’s funny how writing is different than spoken words. You had told me this story this morning and it we talked, I felt your passion, your uncertainty, your purpose. Yet, when I read this, it feels so much more powerful. I admire your decision to send it. You have a rich background and strong beliefs around children and learning – others need to hear them and hopefully, learn from them. Thanks for sharing@
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Thanks for always being there to be my sounding board. ❤️
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Writing is a powerful way to be heard. You are continuing to use your power to make the world a better place for all – more joyful and more just.
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Good lord .. 40 teachers in the middle of the school year? Talk about disruption and loss of important support. The rest of the school year will likely be a fallow time, given the loss of colleagues and beloved teachers. Dang.
I’d have sent the letter, too, and let any response be fuel for further public outrage.
Kevin
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This is real stuff, and it requires people like you who will say what they’re thinking and sign their name. I’m glad you sent the email. Sometimes that red zone writing has to go out there. It was good that you thought, not just about your audience, but the people for whom you were really advocating.
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Red zone writing… sounds like a good title for a book…
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What an excellent example of how we often need to reflect and revise and consider audience in our writing. I admire your decision to send that letter and I do hope the powers that be can find a solution that will be less disruptive to so many. Here’s hoping your words made a difference.
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40 teachers? Mid year? A bad situation for everybody involved. Nobody wins. Writing the letter was a right step. If nobody writes it feels as these kind of decisions are ok to make. Maybe with reading your letter, the council members will put more effort into finding alternative solutions to money problems.
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Sometimes we have to be the beacon. Your voice is strong. It should be heard.
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These words meant a lot to me today. Thank you. ❤️
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What better way to model for all that our words do matter? That a pen (or keyboard) can change the world? Persuasive writer at work!
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