Breakfast With Andre

I was invited, along with other spouses, to Polley’s bimonthly breakfast with elementary school colleagues, people who specialized in helping other people’s children succeed in the learning process.

As one grows older, the friendships and relationships one maintains in his twenties, college chums and new co-workers, are added to by the society one’s children enters.  In fact, the children’s culture pretty much dictates whom we share a pizza with on Friday nights and what bleacher buddies we develop on Saturday afternoons.  We see and interact with the same parents at Honor Society meetings, band practice, soccer games, Scout meetings, etc.  What we all had in common was an enlightened vision of the future for our kids. Or so I thought.

Andre is not one person, but a composite of gentlemen I have had the honor of breaking bread with…ham omelet here, soccer tournament hot dog there, soggy hamburger at a basketball tournament there.  Numerous conversations during time outs, between games/performances, waiting at pre-recitals all while scarfing down fast food lunches and dinners.  Active parents know what I am talking about—-you put two thousand miles on the family van in a week, and you haven’t left town.  Most of the sharers of on-the-run repasts all shared Andre’s perspective; the only true difference is in their individual expressions of the same idea.

Andre: So how have you been?  Long time, no see.

Me: Last time we saw each other our kids were at high school graduation.  Wow!  That went fast.  Kids okay?

Andre:  Married and out of the coop.  Olivia is working for the Scandanavian Whaling Museum in New York.  Yours?

Like all men, we engage in Can You Top This!, our retelling of our children’s success stories in the same way as kids we would choose sides in baseball by alternating the hand over hand grips on Louisville sluggers to see who would be on top and have first pick. Satisfied that we are both World Series Winners, we move on.

Me: Still working?

Andre:  Me?  No. I gave up the construction business two years ago. You?

Me:  Retired from teaching, then worked for the state department of education for a few years.  Got a view of education in the state from another level.

Andre: How was it?

Me:  The view? Not always pretty.  Watched a lot of educators working hard and efficiently, but when it comes to what is best educationally for the kids and what is best politically for the policy makers, guess which wins out?

Andre:  Such is politics.  By the way—have you noticed our local taxes are going up?

I sensed a tone which I had heard before.

Me: Uh huh.  Of course, compared with neighboring school districts, our school taxes are low.

Andre:  Yeah, but I don’t have any kids in school any more.

I took a forkful of omelet.

Me:  Yeah, I know what you mean.  A lot of my federal taxes went to support the armed forces, and I haven’t called in an air strike on my neighbors.  So what am I paying those taxes for?

Andre stared at me. Andre: Are you serious?  At least that money goes for our country, you know…..our defense….the common good?

I put the forkful in my mouth.  Me:  Oh, I thought education was also the common good. I have a poster on my wall—a quote from Mark Twain—“Out of the public school grows the greatness of a nation.”

Andre cut a slice of ham.   Andre:   I’m just saying….I know you were a teacher, but teacher salaries are out of control, you gotta admit.

Me:  No, I don’t “gotta admit.” Be specific.

Andre: C’mon. A second grade teacher making 100 grand?  I don’t get it.

Me:  That’s after 25 years working in the trenches.

Andre:  Doesn’t matter.  I mean, second grade?

I put down my fork.  Me:  So, how about a CEO of a company that makes whoopy cushions?

Andre: Whoopie cushions?  Okay, if he is CEO, he deserves 100 grand.

Me:  So it doesn’t matter how important a contribution is to society?  As long as he/she has a title 100 grand it is.  But if you help raise other people’s children, that is not worth 100 grand?

Andre:  Being a CEO requires a lot of decisions.  I know.  I ran my business.  And I did not have the summers off. [that was a dagger thrust]

Me:  Neither did I.  I usually got a second job in the summer or worked every day in July and August on my next year’s learning units.  I worked by contract 186 days per year.  Subtract weekends and vacations and holidays, how many days did you work?

Andre: Okay, I get the point.

Me: So which is it?

Andre:  Which is what?

Me:  Am I a salaried professional or an hourly worker?

Andre:  Let’s say an hourly worker.

Me: Okay.  Then I charge extra for marking papers, grading tests, writing college recommendations…..

Andre:  That is part of your professional duties.

Me:  Then I am a salaried professional.

Andre: Okay.  You are a salaried professional.

Me: So why don’t I get paid like other professionals—engineers, doctors, lawyers?

Andre shrugged his shoulders.

Me:  You know why?  Two reasons: 1) we think any job involving care-giving is not product producing so we don’t think helping people is worthy of paying a good salary, no matter how important the job, and 2) most care givers are females.  We don’t like to pay for “woman’s work” no matter how much it helps our society.  Think teachers, nurses, social workers.

Andre was becoming slightly flushed. Andre: Can we be honest?

Me: Business honest or real world honest? [that was a shot fired across the bow.]

Andre: Honest honest.

Me: Sure.

Andre:  Basically you work with kids all day and go in and just tell them stuff.

I pushed back from the table slightly.  Me:  Honest?

Andre: Sure.

Me: You haven’t got a clue as to what teaching is about.  We get kids, often kids that are reluctant to engage in the learning process, and we help them develop life-long learning skills.  And in public schools we accept everybody—-the last bastion of true democracy.  So your kids are in good spots right now?

Andre: Yes.  Very good.

Me:  Did their education in the public schools have anything to do with it?  The school taxes you paid, and are paying, including the 100 grand for a second grade teacher, were they, are they, worth it to have your kids where they are?

Andre looked down at his half-eaten plate of ham and eggs.  The waitress came over.   “More coffee?”  We both nodded.

Andre:  Are you running for school board?

Me: No.  There is an opening on the Administration Board of Parsippany Hospital.

Andre: No offense, but how can you serve on a hospital board when you are not a doctor—or even involved in medicine?

Me:  How can I serve on a school board if I know nothing about education?

Andre:  That is different.  All of us went to school.

I unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt.  Me:  So what? See that scar?  I had a bypass.  Being operated on does not make me a surgeon.  A student in school has tunnel vision, and basically worries about oneself.  It does not mean that every graduate of school is an expert on learning.

I saw that Polley and her friends were getting up to leave.

Andre:  Still….a hundred grand for a second grade teacher.

I stood up.  Me: As opposed to a businessman who makes products we don’t need?  I like the bumper sticker—“If you think education is expensive, try ignorance.” Enjoy your children.