Recently, I have chosen a Civil Rights Era theme for the units in my classes. I’ve taken this as an opportunity to engage my students in thoughtful discussion about injustice and what we can do to bring justice. Currently, three of my classes are reading a fantastic book, The Lions of Little Rock by Kristin Levine. The main character, Marlee, finds her beliefs challenged when something happens that shows her just how ugly and full of injustice the world is. Through the course of the novel, Marlee, who started as a painfully shy, nearly voluntarily mute girl, learned to find her voice, a voice that spoke for truth and justice, a voice that spoke out when others were oppressed. She learned when staying quiet would do more harm than good. Recent events at school have caused me to wonder where that will come for me.

I have talked before about why I chose my school. Many others passed up the opportunity not wanting to work at a school with such a terrible reputation unfairly aimed at the students. I knew better. After teaching here for even a short period of time, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that these kids deserve everything I can give them. Then came YIG last fall and that knowledge turned to love, the kind of love that puts the interests of the loved ones before one’s own. That’s what makes the current situation so difficult.

I talked before about office politics and how that can prevent us from doing the best we can for the students. Sometimes an even bigger interference can come from the top.

Over the course of my nearly two years teaching here, various directives have come down the pipe that have challenged what I believe. In the past couple weeks, these directives and changes have come so fast, they make my mind spin and weigh heavy on my heart. These things have me asking where I draw the line, how long I’ll “hold my nose and compromise,” to borrow a line from Hamilton.

Detailing the individual directives here in this public forum would not only be in bad taste but would also do nothing to help me with my decision. I have to allude to the issues through, in the vaguest terms possible. The start of the most recent cascade of ill-designed directives came with round about news concerning the implementation of a reading program inside the confines of a non-state tested school subject. We hoped for the rumors to be false. Then the rumors were confirmed. One of my coworkers immediately decided to submit applications to other schools. She had had enough.

Another situation, still under wraps to most of the faculty and staff, ended up being resolved with the intent of shaming the student who erred rather than stepping in beside this student and helping. Not only did some intend to shame the student, but they also sought to reprimand those who showed compassion.

These two situations along with several others through these two years, has brought me to the point of asking how long can I stay? Does my staying give implicit approval to these unethical decisions or can I still act as an advocate for these precious students? My colleague has made her decision. I have one more year before I have to choose to stay or go. (My school district requires you to work at your first school for three years before you can transfer to another school within the district.) I have no answer now, only faith that, in time, God will make all things clear.