Rules of the Road
Jessie Rummins
Perry Public Schools, Perry, MI

For the first few years of my teaching career, I was clothed with confidence--the assurance that eventually, I would figure everything out. When that wore thin, I donned a cloak of gallows humor cynicism for a few years. After I got a good look at that outfit, I gasped, and changed into a simple suit of experience, education, and ongoing commitment to professional development. This suit, I believed was classic. It would stand the test of time, look good on any occasion and carry me down the road for years.

The road was straight. I was dressed. The lines were clear. I followed them. Crosswalks were easy to find if I needed to move to a sunnier side of the street. All was well.

Then it came. The intersection. It’s not that there hadn’t been a few before- it was just easy to go on past them. This one, though, it stalled me. I got confused. I stumbled a little. Instead of heading immediately right or left, I paused to look for direction. It wasn’t the intersection- that was bound to come eventually. No, the problem here was that someone took away the crosswalk sign.

This is my story. I share it because I suspect that I am not alone.

In the state of Michigan, where I work, a high school teacher is highly qualified to teach in the subject area of his or her major. A teacher may be considered highly qualified to teach in the area of his or her minor area if a competency test is passed. New teachers, who are all required to take and pass the basic competency and major and minor area exams, are automatically highly qualified in both areas. For them, the words “highly qualified” stir up very little anxiety. The requirements are relatively clear, and are covered by Teacher Education programs at reputable universities.

It is veteran teachers who can easily become confused. Those of us who have been in the classroom longer than a few years are required to prove that we are “highly qualified” for the jobs we already hold. The ways in which we can do so are described in several page flowcharts and in an interactive online quiz from the Department of Education. In addition, several documents containing questions and answers describe special situations and options. These documents are well written and clear, as much as they can be. However, the number and kind of options causes great confusion, and leaves room for continued confusion. Veteran teachers may teach in the area of their major only. They are no longer considered qualified to teach in their minor area. Master’s degrees count only in the specific content area. Master’s degrees in an educational area may perhaps count, depending on several factors, which remain unfathomable to me. In order to attain highly qualified status in an area not covered by an academic major, a veteran teacher may return to school and gain additional credits, take a competency test, or assemble a portfolio (for which there are no state-specific guidelines) all at the teacher’s own personal expense. Every teacher must be placed in a position for which he or she is considered highly qualified by the beginning to the 2005-06 school year. Any deviation from this, or the plan to achieve it, must be directly reported to parents and state officials.

Add to this bewildering swirl of regulations and explanations the fact that I was at a crossroads anyway. As a 12-year veteran teacher of drama and director of a high school theatre program, I was ready for a change. I teach in a small rural school district, and the theatre program had developed into a vital part of our school community over the 12 years I ran it. It had been a personal goal of mine to achieve this, and I was proud. But I was also deeply disappointed and disillusioned. The details of my disappointment would likely only make for growing bitterness between my district and me and aren’t particularly important to my story. Suffice it to say, 14-hour days and constant conflict resolution (or lack of resolution) had left me convinced that it was time to move on.

I have a Master’s Degree in Literacy and I have continued my professional development. I have published several articles in research journals, and I am a part of the Red Cedar Writing Project, an affiliate of the National Writing Project. I am willing to reexamine every aspect of my English instruction to be sure it includes a holistic approach to reading writing speaking and listening.

I felt I had served my district well and faithfully. I had been teaching between 3 and five English classes per year, depending upon drama enrollment. The years I taught our 11th graders, we worked hard on the state standardized test, and our scores went way up. I didn’t care about the scores so much, but I did care about the feeling of success the students and staff felt. These are the kinds of things I was sure an administrator would like. I was confident that I would easily be able to find a way to move beyond Drama and focus more on English.

I requested to transfer to a full time English position in my district, and was shocked when I was informed that even if one were available, I would not be considered because I was not “Highly Qualified” in English.  Truly, I was devastated. It was as though someone had taken away those crosswalk lines I had always counted on to keep my bearings. More than that, in one short meeting with my superintendent, my professional dignity was gone. Gone.

What about my Master’s Degree? It didn’t count. It wasn’t specifically in English. Yet, another teacher in my district, with a minor in Spanish, is considered highly qualified to teach English as a result of a master’s degree in Humanities. What about my continuing professional development? Not enough, it wasn’t 30 credits worth. What about my publications? My research? My in-service presentations and presentations to other districts? Unmentioned in the guidelines, and therefore unimportant. I struggled to maintain my self-respect, but it was a losing battle. I felt exposed, naked, even, a naked jaywalker in the middle of an intersection.

I began to do research into NCLB. I spent hours online, on the telephone, and in email contact with state and university officials. I discovered, at least to begin with, that the only subject area offered at my school that I was highly qualified to teach was Drama. No content area classes, only an elective arts class. It was plain to me that I was in deep trouble. One half to three quarters of my 12-year career in Education had been invalidated with the stroke of a pen. It was as if I had never done anything of worth in English. I had taught English every year, along with some elective courses in drama. My English students had done well on state exams. None of that mattered now.

I began to get a kind of picture of what it might take to become highly qualified. But I still had no crosswalk to guide me. I was there, right in the center of things, traffic whizzing by me on all sides, and I had no idea how to get to the safety of the other side. I resigned from my extra curricular duties (including drama). I began planning to seek national certification in English Language Arts (“Highly Qualified” had been amended to include this designation). I contemplated taking additional undergraduate classes in English, to create an undergraduate major (none of my graduate credits counted).  I enrolled in and took 24 credits toward an extra subject-area endorsement, believing that to be a way to remain desirable in the classroom.  I took, and passed, the competency test in English. There was no assurance at the time I registered that it would be sufficient, but I planned for it anyway. I now have that full time job in English that I desired a year ago. As I sit here now, writing this, I am under the impression that I am highly qualified to teach English in the high school. But at any point, that might change. The wind is a little chilly on my skin, and I am wondering if that is a truck I see in the distance. I hope not. But if it is, I hope I can find my way out of its path, no matter how confused and embarrassed I am.