12-1-02 Side Streets, Kimra Traynor Herb
Minimum Wage of $100,000
By Kimra Traynor Herb
IPS Features
First of all,
let me say right off the bat that anyone who has to start off their day dealing
with any of the following items: snot, vomit, bloody noses, or any other
substance better off in a toilet bowl should get paid at the minimum, $100,000
annually. This would immediately catapult mothers into the Fortune 500. But it
is not mothers, primarily, of which I speak.
It is those other folks. The ones we moms send our kids to five days a
week. The sainted folks who spent their young adulthood getting educated in
order that they can spend their days.... mopping up vomit off the floor. And
breaking up fights. And cleaning up glue that has hardened on desks, and wiping
marker streaks off the floor. And dodging sticky hands covered with ketchup
during lunch. And dealing with horrific parents, and dealing with the even more
horrific parents who aren't involved at all, and, when time permits, educating
future generations of young American citizens.
My husband has
this crazy idea that teachers have it made. "I'd like to have the whole
summer off." He tells me, when I say how I pity the poor teachers of the
world.
"I'd need
the whole summer off." I reply. "I'd need to spend the summer
recuperating in the insane asylum." I'm NOT kidding.
My husband
thinks it would be swanky to have a job, which in theory, is from 7:30 a.m. to
3:30 p.m. He likes the idea of long holidays and a short work year. Of course,
he is not, nor does he ever aspire to be, a teacher. In fact, he spends as
little time as possible around the ole school building. He likes to glide in as
back-up, whenever I need him to help express a point concerning one of our
children, but in general, the soccer field behind the elementary school is about
as close as he comes to putting in time in the educational unit.
I, on the other
hand, like to keep a hand in around the school. I enjoy lunching with my
youngest several days a week, and I sincerely don't mind at all when a teacher
calls me with a last minute crisis. It is my duty to serve. As long as that duty
doesn't stretch on too long, if you know what I mean. Because, truthfully, any
sane, normal, non-sainted person can only take so much of it before they A. snap
or B. shut down.
I am nearing the
shut down point now. Normally, I don't sign up for chaperoning duty two days in
a row. My system cannot take it. But somehow, it happened that both Monday and
Tuesday of this week I spent my day from 8 a.m. to 2ish at the elementary
school. Monday I was busy helping with games and snacks for a special event, and
Tuesday was the big field trip to the Birmingham Children's Theater. The other
day, just when I was reminding myself that corporal punishment cannot be doled
out by a visiting mom just because she happens to think a particular child is a
brat, one of the teachers gushed to me, "You should have been a teacher!
You are so good with kids!"
I think I
managed a smile behind my gritted teeth and said, "thanks but no
thanks." Because though I work with kids at my church; it is ONE HOUR, ONE
DAY A WEEK. Which quite honestly, is great fun. ONE HOUR, ONE DAY A WEEK means
that I can afford to be Mrs. Fun and Games, and Mrs. Life of the Party, because
after singing and play practice, they all go back to their parents. Which
frankly would not be enough consolation if I were with them five days a week,
seven hours a day. And also, let's face it, the kids I see at church on Sunday
nights are the creme de le creme. These are the good 'uns. These kiddies have
parents who love them very much and who care enough to drive them back to church
every Sunday night, and to pick them up at the end of the evening. They sit with
their children at church and try to teach them right from wrong. Not so,
necessarily, with the crop that the teachers face every day in public education.
When it is all
said and done, I know that those teachers who manage to stick with it and make
it a lifetime commitment really and truly have a gift. They have a gift to look
past all the bodily fluids and smelly little bodies and dedicate themselves into
helping a child develop into what will hopefully become a better edcuated human
being. It is a gift I do not have; but a gift that I cherish when my children
are lucky enough to have such a teacher. And I promise, if I ever am in a
position to do so, I will make sure that all teachers will have a starting
salary of at least $100,000. And I'll put a rider on there that gives extra
hazard pay for those days when the vomit is flying, during the flu season.