It is at 12:05 am, my lunch hour. Outside my door I hear the voices of children, laughing and playing, joyful in their innocence of the world that awaits them. Behind other doors, the doors of my colleagues, I know there is silence and the stares of those who worry: Will I have a job next year ? Will this school be closed? Will the charter school take my room ? How will I feed my kids if I’m fired ? Who are the people doing this and what more do they want ?
The sickening feeling, years now in the making, of the ground forever cracking beneath your feet, that whatever you do will not be good enough, that schemes such as Danielson will be used to keep you forever on edge, forever fearful like a cat in a corner sensing the presence of a cruel unseen master, is as pervasive as the voices of children.
Is this the way to run a school system? Of course, not. But it is how to destroy one.