Who’s got the passing grade?

So imagine that you are the principal of a large public school in an inner city. No easy… So imagine that you are the principal of a large public school in an inner city. No easy job. You are facing a mounting array of problems looming in the future — widespread apathy among students, violence lurking in the background as an ever-present reminder of the future most of them realistically will attain, insufficient funding. Times are serious and measures must be drastic. Low wages and job dissatisfaction have turned so many of your faculty away, that you now find yourself in the position of needing to hire a new teacher.

An applicant arrives to be interviewed for the new position. It immediately becomes obvious that he has never gone on a real job interview in his life. He breaks all the rules that they told you to follow at Career Services back in college.

For one thing, his resume doesn’t quite add up. He has no teaching experience whatsoever. He seems to believe that this is an asset, however. His lack of years spent in the profession have kept him sharp with “what’s really going on.” Moreover, he deplores what he refers to as “career teachers.” They have simply lost touch with what is really needed to get the job done. The longer they are on the job, the less use they are. “We need different kinds of people in the classroom,” he says, “especially people with business experience.”

He has helpfully brought along a long list of all the recommendations he has gotten for the job — they are not from people affiliated with childcare or education, but rather with calculator and computer companies.

He promises to “shake things up.” He’s not going to be just another guy on the faculty — he’s going to change the system! He may have never set foot in the classroom before, but his freshness and boldness are bound to win over everyone else, he promises. He’ll fight to do what’s right! Of course, it seems hard to see how he will be able to make the critical changes he is proposing with the help of other faculty members if he is continually insulting them and their profession.

Of course, he doesn’t seem all that interested in actually laying out what his specific ideas are, beyond helping all of his students attain a “quality education for the 21st century.” He’s a lot more fixated on the other guys being considered for his job. They are all bums, he tells you. Career teachers, all of them. They will only be teaching “voodoo economics,” they smoked pot in college, and they’re “soft” on homework. They can’t be trusted. He’s the kind of guy you want, he tells you — someone who is going to “fight” for what’s right! You wonder to yourself how many people who wear suits and ties to work should be characterizing their teamwork style as fighting.

You try to steer the interview back around to what he plans to bring to the classroom. He begins to wax nostalgic about the days when he was a pupil at this very school. He knows what values this school holds, as he has lived near here his entire life. (Not like those other bums who have actually lived in another state at one point!) He pulls out of his wallet some pictures of his cardboard cut-out family — three kids, trophy wife and a pet beagle standing in front of white picket fences.

Furthermore, he tells you, his father was a great teacher and instilled in him early on a deep love of education. He will bring family values to the classroom, because he is a family man — not like those dirty, two-timing other bums you’re considering! They don’t even go to church!

Those other guys are against abortion! Some of the others think gays should be allowed to get married.

You think to yourself that it’s hard to see how personal beliefs are relevant, as this job calls for one to focus on the grind of how to help people improve in ways that will affect their daily lives in a much more important manner than such special interests.

Finally, the interview is over. It seems like the handshakes and promises will never end, but finally you get this creep out of your office. And breathe a sigh of relief that in reality, nobody could ever earn a job this way. At least, not an important one.

Got what it takes? E-mail Daron at djc14@pitt.edu, punk.