This school year is almost over, which reminds me of a little incident that happened during the last full day of my teaching career a few years ago.

It was early June, 2019. The day I had been looking forward to for 5 years had arrived- almost. Tomorrow was going to be my last day as a public elementary school music teacher.  I was retiring.

Well, people called it retiring.  At age 49, I felt too young to retire from anything, so I preferred to just call it what it was- quitting.  I was quitting my job as a teacher because I couldn’t stand it anymore and wanted to do something else.

All I had to do to finish up my final year was to attend two in-service (aka teacher training) days.  Tomorrow would be fine; finishing my room clean-out, saying goodbye to colleagues, etc. But today was going to be a little tougher.

Today was the final, organized, large group teacher in-service day of the year (and of my career).  Most teachers will tell you that the typical in-service day sucks.  It’s usually boring, sometimes pointless, and too often- both.  But I had to survive this last one even though everything that was being presented was focused on the next school year, of which I was not going to be part.  So to me, the day seemed extra boring and extra pointless.

Plus, I had work to do.  As a trumpet player, I had an upcoming jazz gig I was really excited about. We were about a week away from performing Miles Davis’ iconic Kind Of Blue album in it’s entirety.  I had assembled a great quintet with a special guest pianist.  The venue we were playing was the perfect size for an intimate jazz set like this and we were nearly sold out already. The local newspaper had asked me to write them a press release and also to send written answers to a series of interview questions they sent.  They were planning to run a feature on the concert.

So that’s what I was focused and working on as I walked into the high school choral room with a bunch of other unmotivated and summer- starved teachers, just trying to survive the in-service session as best we could. The session was being presented by a couple of teachers from within the school district.  I didn’t want to disrespect the time and effort they put into their presentation.  They didn’t know me, and likely didn’t know that I was mentally checked out; soon be a former employee.

So I went to the top row on the choral risers and squeezed myself into a chair in the corner,  between two other teachers.  I tried my best to be hidden from the presenters.  The district was encouraging teachers not to open their laptops during the session, even for the purpose of taking notes.  Teachers can be an agreeable bunch, even on painful in-service days, so most of them did not take out their laptops.

I did. The whole day was a pointless waste of time for me and every other teacher who was retiring, and I had other work I needed to get done.  As I said, I was trying to be as discreet as possible.  There were a few of us on our laptops. I wasn’t alone.

So the presenters started talking and I started quietly working on my projects.  About halfway through the session, one of the high school principals entered the room, sat down beside the presenters, facing the audience of teachers, and opened her laptop.

The session ended and a few minutes later I was at lunch.  Afterwards, I checked my email before the afternoon session and found an email from that same high school principal, with my own elementary school principal cc’d,  that said something very similar to this:

Dear Mr. Fulginiti,

I am disappointed to see that you were on your laptop during the morning session.  I realize that you are retiring tomorrow and this presentation is about the future, but our expectation is that all teachers will give their attention to the presenters.

Best,

Xxxxx

This is just the sort of thing I had come to expect from the administration in my school district.  They had proven themselves to be champion micro-managers who over focus on the letter of their laws, sometimes at the expense of common sense.  I couldn’t stand working for them.

Despite me telling myself to just ignore the email, I couldn’t.  Stuff like this was part of the reason I was leaving the job.  I really did try to be discreet about the laptop work, but based on this principal’s seating position in the session, I think she came in there solely to spy on teachers and reprimand them if they had their laptops open. In fact, I heard that there were other teachers who got the same email from the same principal that morning.  She was spying!

At the afternoon session, I showed the email to some of the teachers at my school, wondering in my head if my anger and annoyance were justified.  When they read it, the other teachers had the same reaction as me.  

I was still trying to let the whole thing go. My retirement dinner was later that afternoon and I was looking forward to it.  But that email just highlighted the worst parts of my experience with my school district. 

So after getting tons of suggestions from my equally annoyed teacher friends, I composed an email response to this petty principle.  I replied all- so my principal would see it.  I also cc’d the high school principal’s boss (head high school principal).

My email read:

Hi xxxxx,

Wow.

Todd

Sometimes I miss teaching, but there’s never been a day where I’ve missed working for my old school district, and stories like this help illustrate why.

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