You hear a lot of talk these days about how teachers only "work" for 9 months a year. Technically, even that's a stretch according to the logic of the comment. They really only "work" for about 180 days. (well, most contracts cover something like 192 days, give or take but still...) In many circles, that's really only 6 months! So the teacher in my previous example, (the one with 27 years experience and a PhD) could make $89,000 for just 6 months worth of "work." Holy shit. How are so many people laying off a job like that? Could it be there's more to it? Is it possible our definition of "work" when applied like this is a little twisted?
The problem with this logic is that it only makes sense when you define the word "work" as "performance delivery." Let's look at how this definition might apply to other professions to gain a better understanding of what that means.
Wal-Mart is a retail giant. Their actual "work" consists solely of selling stuff to customers. So by the definition that says teachers only "work" for 6 months a year, Wal-Mart employees only "work" when customers pass through the checkout line. Stocking shelves isn't work. Unloading trucks isn't work. Cleaning floors or bringing carts in from the parking lot isn't work. Hiring, paying, scheduling employees isn't work. Hell, by this definition, Wal-Mart management and administrative folks never work a day in their lives! The only folks who actually work for Wal-Mart are the cashiers. And they only work when accepting money from customers during the actual exchange of that money for a Wal-Mart good or service. Bagging purchases isn't work. Answering questions isn't work. Counting out a drawer at the end of a shift isn't work.
How about actors or entertainers? The average musician is lucky to make one hit song in his lifetime. That song is usually around three minutes long. So by our definition of work, the average musician only works about three minutes in a lifetime. The missed takes in the studio while recording this song aren't work. Subsequent play of the song on a radio, in a commercial, etc. aren't work. The time spent learning to play an instrument, writing a thousand shitty songs that eventually become the hit, rehearsing, auditioning, putting bands together, touring, breaking bands up...not work.
Actors appear in a play or on a movie screen for about 90 minutes. So they only work for the 90 minutes that it takes an audience to see the movie or play. Producers, directors, set-builders, stunt men... none of those people ever actually work by our current definition of working. Just the actors who actually deliver a performance - and then, only during the actual performance. The fact that it can take up to a year to film a movie doesn't factor into our definition of work. The only actual work we're counting now is the time during which the performance is actually delivered.
How about manufacturing employees? Their job is to put things together. So stocking their supply bins isn't work. Cleaning their areas and keeping them free of hazards isn't work. Gathering, inspecting, maintaining tools? Not work. Attending production meetings isn't work. They only work when actually putting a part on whatever they're building. Picking up the part isn't work. Inspecting it isn't work. Tossing a bad part aside isn't work. Work, by our definition, only happens when the employee is in the act of putting that part on whatever he's building. Clearly, by this definition of work, people like production schedulers, HR specialists, or, say, quality assurance engineers don't ever actually work. Truck drivers who deliver the parts don't work (at least not in this scenario), the people who process payroll for manufacturing plants don't actually work. The folks who built the building don't work. Not by our new definition that says work is only performance delivery.
How about boxers? They only work something like 7.5 to 25 minutes - or three to ten 2.5-minute rounds, maybe ten times a year. We've all heard people say, "I'd get in the ring with Mike Tyson for $10 million!" And according to our new definition of work, we should all be able to do that. Training isn't work. Developing one's talents isn't work. Starting in Golden Gloves at the age of 10 and living in the gym for ten years isn't work. A decade as an amateur getting the shit beat out of you isn't work. Going from normal training regimens to intense 12 hours/day, 7 days/week workouts for 8 weeks before the fight isn't work. Work, by our definition, only consists of the time spent in the ring during the actual fight.
I like that comparison because like a boxer, when the bell rings, teachers are ON. There are no timeouts between the bells. Teacher's "rounds" usually last around 45 minutes. They get a little longer than boxers between rounds. (During which, technically, they are not working.) These breaks between rounds are usually something like 3 to 5 minutes, during which they get to do fun things like break up fights, answer homework questions, call parents, meet with their boss, set up for the next class, monitor a hallway or playground, and occasionally even go to the bathroom.
Those "6-hour" days that teachers "work" are pretty intense. There's no leisurely stroll from the coffee machine to the bathroom or the water cooler. There's no asking if a colleague saw that episode of Idol last night - those are all saved for the 20-minute lunch period, which, by the way, does not count as work either! There's no room to nurse a hangover, or check your portfolio, call the bank, drop off a library book... or pretty much anything else, as is generally the case in most non-teaching jobs. You can't fake it. You can't call it in. Kids will eat you alive... but only for the 180 days you're actually "working" so it's no big deal. Hell, it's a part-time job.
Of course, grading papers isn't work. Meeting with parents for conferences isn't work. Helping students with homework outside of class time isn't work. Neither are getting a degree before being qualified to apply for a license, continuing with one's education (at one's own expense) over the entire course of the career in order to be able to keep a license, or writing lesson plans, serving on committees, planning and overseeing graduation ceremonies, field trips, pep-rallies, interventions, drug programs, teen pregnancy programs, or just listening to a student whose parents are never home or never sober or never not yelling at them. These things aren't work and teachers don't get paid to do them. They only get paid for their 9-months of "work."
And then there's the whole concept of working for an "entire year." The apples and the oranges. Let's take a closer look at that as well. The typical American work week is 40 hours over 52 weeks, adding up to 2080 hours a year. No one in America regularly works every single one of those weeks. It is common practice for manufacturing to shut down between Christmas and New Years. Now we're down to 2040 hours. Many manufacterers repeat this for inventory (not work, by the way) again in the summer. 2000 hours. Most full-time employees take at least a week off (and if they're full-time, most are paid for it) each year. 1960 hours. But let's be generous and say the average American "works" 2000 hours a year. That's 250 days. Hmmm. Nine months is 270 days. The average American employee works LESS than 250 days. Sounds like MOST Americans only "work" 9 months a year!! (Of course, by our definition, they're not really "working" all that time... they're just getting paid.) So when you "adjust" teacher pay to reflect what it would be IF teachers worked for an entire year, do you also adjust the pay of people with "real jobs" AS IF they worked for an "entire year?"
And we haven't even begun to cover the actual hours worked during the school year for most teachers. I'll bet it's closer to that 2080 figure than most people with similar education and experience work in their "whole year" jobs.
C'mon man...Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh can oversimplify tougher arguments this! Apples and oranges, my friend, apples and oranges.
Luth
Out
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