I'll never be a teacher-ninja

Why do I always feel like I'm sneaking out of school early when I leave on time? Maybe it's because I, like pretty much every teacher and particularly like every school newspaper adviser, stay after school almost always.

Even though at my school we are lucky enough to have newspaper as a class (whereas at many places with less funding and less support in general, newspaper may only be an after-school club, if it exists at all), we still stay after school for editor meetings, mini-workshops, brainstorming, planning the pages, layout days, overflow editing time and more.

This past week, we didn't have any of those particular events, so on Monday through Thursday, I left only about a half hour late. (Face it, unless you are a teacher-ninja, you're never leaving EXACTLY on time.) But on Friday, it was the deadline for the Florida Scholastic Press Association's digital contest entries along with the deadline for something called the Quick-Turn contests. So, a few of my students needed to stay after to finish their entries, which I would then digitally submit.

The last bell rang on Friday, and the school gradually emptied out. Except for me and about 10 students. And, yes, there are other teachers who sponsor active clubs that also remain behind on days like this. While everyone else embraced that woo-hoo! feeling of the weekend, we stragglers knew we had one or two or three more hours to go. We late-staying teachers know who we are. We have our mutual sighs and head nods of familiarity when we pass each other in the halls. And the evening custodians are our besties. (Actually, the custodians usually look at me like they're worried I'm going to mess up the freshly-mopped floor. I try to tip-toe out as delicately as possible.)

I left school at close to 6 p.m. yesterday, making it more than a 10-hour work day. It is one in a long line of long days.

Next week, we are heading into the deadline period for our March issue, so there will be days when as many as 60, maybe 70, newspaper kids will be in my room laying out pages, munching, talking, leaving behind an inordinate quantity of half-consumed water bottles, forgetting to put the camera cords back in the closet, feeling proud of what they created or freaking out because an important file got deleted somehow.

By now you've probably guessed this next part: I and pretty much every teacher, and particularly every school newspaper adviser, donate all these hours of our time because we see how important it is for our students, and we feel really good knowing that. But it would also be nice if the people who formulate education policy in this country would show us a little love.