Teachers love Snow Days; there's no denying that fact (You may even notice that I capitalized the two words as if they were a national holiday.). I am no different. I like being out of school as much as the kids do. I like getting to watch a few episodes of a favorite TV show, work on a hobby, and catch up on folding the laundry (maybe not). I even like clearing the driveway and cleaning off the cars.
But I don't need everybody I know telling me it's a Snow Day.
I wake in the morning, and I look outside to see if the predicted snow came. The ground is covered, including the street. The cars are white lumps in the driveway. I check all forms of modern technology to see if we're out of school. Everything is blank, and if were warmer I crickets would fill the silence.
Text message? Nope.
Email alert? Huh uh.
Facebook? Negative.
Repeat.
I continue with my morning routine, with the understanding that today's drive is not going to be pleasurable. Snow is still blowing around, accumulating on the deck. It's not going to get better, but they haven't called our day off yet.
Shower.
Dress.
Brush the teeth.
All of that stuff.
And that's when the phone in pocket buzzes.
Of course. Ain't that the way it goes (I can say ain't; it's my day off.)?
The first text is from the principal: "Go back to bed." The second text comes from the district.
I got awake and dressed and clean for nuttin'!
The next alert is an official robocall cancelling our district's day of professional development, and I am deeply saddened (Where's that sarcasm punctuation I've been asking for?).
And then it begins.
A co-worker has been told to send a text to me about our day off.
The message is even scrolling on the TV screen.
The official word comes through the email stream - the exact wording from the robocall and text messge from earlier. Another email is directly from the superintendent: "Enjoy your snow day!" She doesn't capitalize the holiday like I do, but she uses an exclamation point which encourages me that it's OK to feel pleasure in having the day off.
But then I make the mistake of checking the facebook.
Apparently somebody else thinks she can save me from my own stupidity. Apparently I can't be trusted to check all of the outlets for myself. Apparently, I haven't already been told seven times through official channels that I can relax for the day. Apparently, I'm not an adult, and I don't know how to find the information that I need.
"Snow Day for Joplin peeps," announces one friend (especially annoying because I am also not a sugary Easter treat).
"Teachers get a snow day!" another proclaims. Is it so hard to capitalize a holiday?
"It's a Teacher Snow Day!!!" We're depleting our allotment of exclamation points, today.
"Go back to bed staff!" You're missing a comma, staff.
"Teachers go back to bed!" Thanks for your permission.
Still others have posted screen shots from their phones and email messages, and now I'm questioning whether or not I should go to work, or could this just be an elaborate hoax to get me in trouble for not reporting in.
The thing is, I get that you're happy. And excited. And relieved. I totally do.
But teachers need to stop telling the world that we work long hours - that we take our work home with us, that we are underpaid, that we have to stay after hours to grade papers and attend special school events - and then announce in very public manners that we get another day off. I know we have to make up the Snow Day, but that's not how those announcements can be perceived.
There they go again - those teachers - getting yet another free day on the public dole.
Why make those posts on social media in the first place? Did you think I'm not going to check for the official announcement before I take your word for it? Are you providing a public service announcement for the people who genuinely didn't get a half dozen authentic and direct messages? Are you bragging to the world that you have a day off when many your readers do not? Do you think you are heroically scooping everyone else?
Our message of educators being overworked and underpaid is diminished when we publicly proclaim our days off for summer, Spring Break, Winter Break, Thanksgiving Break, and others.
But I don't need everybody I know telling me it's a Snow Day.
I wake in the morning, and I look outside to see if the predicted snow came. The ground is covered, including the street. The cars are white lumps in the driveway. I check all forms of modern technology to see if we're out of school. Everything is blank, and if were warmer I crickets would fill the silence.
Text message? Nope.
Email alert? Huh uh.
Facebook? Negative.
Repeat.
I continue with my morning routine, with the understanding that today's drive is not going to be pleasurable. Snow is still blowing around, accumulating on the deck. It's not going to get better, but they haven't called our day off yet.
Shower.
Dress.
Brush the teeth.
All of that stuff.
And that's when the phone in pocket buzzes.
Of course. Ain't that the way it goes (I can say ain't; it's my day off.)?
The first text is from the principal: "Go back to bed." The second text comes from the district.
I got awake and dressed and clean for nuttin'!
The next alert is an official robocall cancelling our district's day of professional development, and I am deeply saddened (Where's that sarcasm punctuation I've been asking for?).
And then it begins.
A co-worker has been told to send a text to me about our day off.
The message is even scrolling on the TV screen.
The official word comes through the email stream - the exact wording from the robocall and text messge from earlier. Another email is directly from the superintendent: "Enjoy your snow day!" She doesn't capitalize the holiday like I do, but she uses an exclamation point which encourages me that it's OK to feel pleasure in having the day off.
But then I make the mistake of checking the facebook.
Apparently somebody else thinks she can save me from my own stupidity. Apparently I can't be trusted to check all of the outlets for myself. Apparently, I haven't already been told seven times through official channels that I can relax for the day. Apparently, I'm not an adult, and I don't know how to find the information that I need.
"Snow Day for Joplin peeps," announces one friend (especially annoying because I am also not a sugary Easter treat).
"Teachers get a snow day!" another proclaims. Is it so hard to capitalize a holiday?
"It's a Teacher Snow Day!!!" We're depleting our allotment of exclamation points, today.
"Go back to bed staff!" You're missing a comma, staff.
"Teachers go back to bed!" Thanks for your permission.
Still others have posted screen shots from their phones and email messages, and now I'm questioning whether or not I should go to work, or could this just be an elaborate hoax to get me in trouble for not reporting in.
The thing is, I get that you're happy. And excited. And relieved. I totally do.
But teachers need to stop telling the world that we work long hours - that we take our work home with us, that we are underpaid, that we have to stay after hours to grade papers and attend special school events - and then announce in very public manners that we get another day off. I know we have to make up the Snow Day, but that's not how those announcements can be perceived.
There they go again - those teachers - getting yet another free day on the public dole.
Why make those posts on social media in the first place? Did you think I'm not going to check for the official announcement before I take your word for it? Are you providing a public service announcement for the people who genuinely didn't get a half dozen authentic and direct messages? Are you bragging to the world that you have a day off when many your readers do not? Do you think you are heroically scooping everyone else?
Our message of educators being overworked and underpaid is diminished when we publicly proclaim our days off for summer, Spring Break, Winter Break, Thanksgiving Break, and others.
