Dear Dad,

I’ve thought about writing you a letter like this many times before. As you know, selling has allowed me to pay my bills and continue doing what I loved – creative writing. Unfortunately, I’m usually aware of my weaknesses, sometimes, too aware. I’m mostly an average salesperson; in fact, I’ve often felt that I was never great at anything other than writing.

I am reminded of a quote I can relate to:

“The only thing I was fit for was to be a writer, and this notion rested solely on my suspicion that I would never be fit for real work, and that writing didn’t require any.” – Russell Baker (1925- ).

I fully realize that I am a dreamer, more apt to focus on the “who of David” versus the “what of David.” It isn’t that I necessarily need to “follow my bliss” in my career. Rather, I’d like to be really good at what I do.

Recently I read “The Pathfinder” by Nicholas Lore. The result: twenty “potential” occupations. I say “potential” as it is based on honest input regarding interests and aptitude. Some careers required a master’s degree. Some were HIGHLY competitive. Others equated to popcorn wages without a money-back guarantee.

I made a moderately risky move of trying my hand at the teaching profession. I envisioned myself teaching creative writing, history, spelling or vocabulary at a private high school. I knew it wasn’t a perfect fit and would require continuing education, but better than sales.

I signed on as an after school teacher at an elementary school in East L.A. The positives were that I could help less fortunate kids in rough neighborhoods that were likely to have interesting stories to tell. The negatives were that it seems that many low-income families don’t value education much and rearing a child with proper discipline comes a distant second to putting food on the table.

I made two big mistakes on day one. First, I quickly covered class rules. I knew better, but was distracted. Second, I smiled, possibly more than once. I learned not to smile at work. I resorted to growing a goatee – for intimidation factor. Not that it worked.

Fifth graders cry, “I’m bored”, with any stop in the action or any activity that they are not one-hundred percent in love with. Have contingency plans ready. Our curriculum isn’t age appropriate, designed for first through third grade. My request to modify it as needed was denied. I’ve tried masking it, but kids know when something is beneath their level.

I am enlightened as to why many “thirty-something’s” feel they are too old to breed/rear. A mere eighteen hours a week and you can “put a fork in my sperm” because their breeding days are O-V-E-R. Fifth grade IS on the cusp of junior high school — and for good reason.

Kids have “selective memory” and will continually ignore rules. Also, they incessantly nag you about what is next. Kids want what they want, when they want it and the worst they’ll hear is “no”. Nobody will judge them as selfish human beings because they’re “just kids”.

I strive for “consistency”; especially when hammering class rules into their growing minds. A classroom’s broken wall pencil sharpener equates to a splendid excuse for leaving one’s chair to seek out a portable one. I never knew it took four hours to sharpen a pencil; you learn something new every day.

Kids are “Masters of Distraction.” They will “turkey-neck” you, bombard you from all directions with questions, comments, show you a toy or tell you a story. Even when you set up a procedure, they ignore it, or selective memory takes place — again. Turning your back invites spitballs, chasing, water fountain visits and hitting. Fifth graders smell weakness as easily as a mountain lion encountering an abandoned newborn.

“Imaginary black widow spiders” live inside students’ desks. Kids will helpfully point out cobwebs to lure you into their manipulative scheme, telling you about a spider that crawled inside of their desk. Only after carefully removing every item will you deduce that these are “imaginary spiders”. Good one kids – you did me dirty! I would later find out that they learned this trick from a movie.

Another trick is hiding inside storage closets whenever I’m distracted. Once I let them catch their breath during soccer drills. They repaid me by going “balls to the wall”; throwing the balls off a twelve foot wall, one kid claiming a ball went OVER the wall. I would discover the ball in question to be as “imaginary as the spider”.

You will lose your voice; especially until you get control of the class. Veteran teachers informed me that two months is the average to build rapport with students. Methods to quiet the class include: raising a hand; clapping hands in rhythm. Neither method worked well. Extreme patience will serve you well here.

Most kids resemble Charles Schulz’s Pigpen character. Introduce a mud puddle or a dirt field and they’re pulling a Tasmanian Devil. Girls are already aware of the advantages of their sex, using their cuteness against teacher to gain privileges. “Whining Whitney” wins that game. Similarly, girls are layered with emotional drama. Fragile Anita (a.k.a. Hypochondriac Anita) could sneeze and probably burst an appendix (in her own mind). I asked a “good” student to switch desks temporarily and she fought me tooth and nail. It undermined my authority so I fought the good fight. She switched, buried her head in her arms, and unloaded a full-blown sob fest.

Kids expect you to know everything. The dilemma is that “I Am Not Smarter than a Fifth Grader” in mathematics. This myth stems from two misperceptions. One, most elementary teachers must have a teaching credential which insures, “elementary school knowledge” in all subjects taught. Second, kids expect that because you’re a “teacher”, you should know everything.

Some micro-managing principals utilize their intercom to not-so-discretely monitor your classroom. They speak to you through the intercom, hang up – or so you thought. Then, the principal enters, unleashing a lecture about an inappropriate behavior. Remember, Big Brother (or sister) is always watching.

Everyone and their dog (including the janitor) will lecture you about the condition of your classroom. I’m waiting for the day when a gopher on the athletic field pulls me aside to complain about the noise we create during P.E. class, and asks me what I’m prepared to do about it.

Typical forms of discipline: time-outs; behavior notes; sending students to the office; taking away rewards. The most important lesson you will teach is consequence. Kids are nearly clueless in regard to repercussions for their actions. Youngsters dislike being embarrassed in front of their classmates. For example, Hector calls Isabel “anorexic.” I retort, “How would you like it if she calls you ‘Gordito’ (chunky in Spanish)?” The class erupts in laughter as Hector begins defending himself profusely. I use this with discretion as it will not work with some personalities.

Teacher’s pets often have ulterior motives, whether they want attention, reward tickets, special assignments, water breaks, bathroom breaks or task avoidance; kids rarely do anything without expecting something in return. All fifth graders can do real-world math. Twenty-five students + one teacher = recipe for dis-ASS-ter. Maybe you tell them to stay off the jungle gym. They know that you are incapable of physically removing each of them.

Several of my kids’ parents are former or current convicts. I’ve seen less “ink” at a Staples retail store. Talk about intimidation factor; consider it the metaphorical “cherry” on your ice cream sundae teaching world. I never knew that gargantuan tattoos on a woman’s neck were deemed sexy. Again, you learn something new every day.

Kids prefer to talk rather than listen. Pedro constantly asks to retrieve something from his regular classroom, asks to use the bathroom, tells me long-winded stories or tattles on a kid that hit him (forget that he hit the kid first). It’s funny, as kids like Pedro are incapable of telling a convincing lie. His “tell” (gambling term) is so obvious; smirk visible, eyes darting sideways. Kneel down to eye level, look kids square in the eyes and speak to them. This helps them “hear your words”.

It would behoove you to dumb (avoiding “dumb” or “behoove”) down your vocabulary and shorten your sentences. If you have a potty mouth, check it at the door. I used “dumb” or “stupid” in an example sentence for a student’s assignment and was warned by my boss. Use it and students will cry, “ohhhhhh — you said a bad word, I’m telling.” Understand that any conduct by a teacher that kids deem inappropriate will be promptly reported to the principal. Get used to kids’ world – its tit for tat.

After-school programs are born to fail. Reflect, for a moment. Would you enjoy being told what to do for three and a half hours after enduring six hours of regular school? Remember that this time used to consist of play time with some homework added. My solution — “pick my battles”; single file lines became a low priority whereas staying off the jungle gym remained a high priority.

Prepare for zero downtime. I’ve resolved to carry a bag of animal crackers (ironic – see next paragraph) to P.E. class. If I bury my face into the bag and inhale (never use dirty fingers at school), I will end up fed that day. The four walls of a classroom may be underappreciated initially, but it won’t be after teaching a P.E. class. Taking kids outside transforms into an experience much worse than what you’ll see at San Diego’s Wild Animal Park. Discard the popular DVD series “When Animals Attack”, my “Child Gone Wild” DVD’s are coming soon to retail stores near you.

Kids will damage, break or steal (regardless of its perceived value) anything that isn’t nailed down. My kids crowd near my rolling cart, I turn my back and two girls begin fighting to see who will wheel it to class. Amazingly, they crack the hard plastic handle. I give a reminder lecture about respect and responsibility. A day later, one girl chases another, the chasee crashes full-speed into my cart. I’ve seen less duct tape on a fifty year-old sofa.

Finally, I see these as the biggest attributes (in this order) to succeed as an elementary school teacher: patience; quick-thinking; multi-tasking; consistency; commitment (to know there will be better days).

My status after month one: I’ve had one verbal warning for failing to follow the lesson plans (aimed at 1st thru 3rd graders); one written warning for losing it on a terribly frustrating day and yelling “Shut-up.” Needless to say, my days as an educator – a.k.a. babysitter, are numbered.

My three key weaknesses in teaching: I am a mediocre multi-tasker; I am not a “fast processor” and while I know this has little if anything to do with overall intelligence, I know that my inability to think quickly has killed me; I am not a patient person – period. A not-so-surprising lesson learned; I have even more respect for teachers – if that’s possible.

Do you remember my college years when I worked in warehouses without air conditioning, breaking my back, earning $7.00 per hour? Those jobs would be a welcome sight, and the pay wasn’t much worse, and that was sixteen years ago.

Picture a beautiful marsh in the wetlands. Visualize: tall reeds, calm water and grassy areas. Suddenly a female mallard duck appears, a string of her baby ducklings in tow. The scene has beauty, humor (quack!) and peace. BAM! BAM! BAM! – Serenity is broken. A hunter has plucked off a duckling or two, thereby disturbing the smooth flow of life. Life has many ups and downs, with your ducks rarely lining up in a perfect row. So, enjoy brief moments when it does, always understanding that it won’t last long. – David J. Evangelisti

The time has come to regroup. A business school offered me an Admissions Representative position. The manager sold me on working for him and was very enthusiastic when I accepted. It is the type of selling environment (i.e. team-oriented, “soft sales”, honest) that I mostly enjoy.

Accepting this position allows me to move to Orange County and will serve as my “final hoorah” in the sales field. I will present one-hundred percent effort. If it results in success – grand; if not, I will return to the drawing bird in an attempt to re-invent myself once again. As usual, any wisdom, insight or advice you may offer is greatly appreciated.

In closing, here is a quote that I still refuse to accept.

“We were put on this planet to work, suffer and endure; not to enjoy life. All pleasure is sinful.” – Mr. Wisdom, Teacher, William S. Hart High School

Love,
David

(2007)