He Got the Job!
Here I was. Back in the U.S.A. after ten years in Haiti during which I had taught EFL (English as a Foreign Language) full time while doing graduate studies in ethnology and psychology part-time at the national university. I had left all of my homemade pantsuits and jumpsuits behind. My friend, Maria, had hyped what a great opportunity this was to build a whole new wardrobe. The only fault in that hypothesis was that I would need a job to obtain the new clothes. So my mom fronted me the clothing investment while I combed the Sunday Star Ledger education section for open positions.
The first opening that I applied for was at a technical high school in another county. I wore my best new duds including Maria’s much recommended silk blouse. My dad drove me and told me that if I got the job he would have to drive me to and fro every day since he did not like the neighborhood.
The interview was conducted by a woman. There were five men also on the panel. She asked me why I thought I could do this job. I told her about my experience teaching and training teachers at the Haitian-American Institute in Port-au-Prince. She asked about my certification. I had NJ certification to teach English. She told me that was not enough. There was a new ESL (English as a Second Language) certification in NJ. I had applied for that, but the certification officer at NJDOE had said that because the graduate coursework I cited had not been done at a NJ university it was not acceptable. Undergrad credits had been done at Montclair State, but she claimed that although they were coded 500 courses — i.e. graduate — they could not count. I later learned that this exact argument was used for graduates of Georgetown’s program for ESL/EFL teachers. At the time, that was the pre-eminent M.A. program in the country and hosted the national TESOL organization.
We were seated at a long table. The woman in charge at the head. I at the foot. The men distributed along the sides. The woman threw a paper down the table toward me. “These are the required courses for ESL certification in NJ,” she barked. I tried to tell her that I had taken some of those courses in Haiti and some in NJ as a undergrad, but she was not having it. She acted like I had wasted her time. Like I was garbage. It hurt. She stormed out — past me and the men, all of whom were apologetic.
What she had not told me was that NJ also offered an emergency certification during which one could fulfill requirements. Neither had the NJDOE official mentioned that. She could have hired me on that basis. She chose, instead, to treat me shabbily.
So, for me, it was back to the classifieds. I found a job that autumn in an intensive ESL program on a university campus. I got my professional wardrobe in order, bought a car. Before a year was out I had moved from my parents’ apartment into one of my own. Within three years I had fulfilled my five-year plan. I had a car, an apartment, and a healthcare plan. Not long after that I had a retirement account. I was promoted from teaching to coordinating the academic program. After work, I began taking the NJ courses required for the second certification at a NJ state-approved university program.
I also cooperated with that university program by hosting prospective teachers in their summer practicum program. I always had at least five full-time teachers who could serve as master teachers for extra pay from the university. So we often hosted up to 15 summer interns. It was a six-week practicum. Of these I was able to hire three, four, or five as needed for the Fall enrollment where they then completed their paid internships.
I always knew that the public schools paid better, had better benefits, and would grab them, and they did. I wrote them nice letters of recommendation, and they would come back and teach and act as master teachers in summer. It was a win-win deal.
I should have stated long ago that teaching is largely a pink-collar field. About 70% or more of the interns that came through my doors were women. After completing the second certification requirements in that program, I was hired to teach some of the courses part-time while I kept the full-time positon running the intensive program. That ratio continued to apply in my classes.
Not every summer intern was a star. Most were above average to excellent. There were not many that I would not hire in a NJ minute. There was one.
I write exceptionally good letters of recommendation. Even a mediocre applicant gets a positive letter. The reader, however, should be able to read what is missing.
Before I left the intensive program to teach full time in the graduate MAT program, I received a request for a recommendation for one of the more problematic of summer interns. He was a sweet guy. He just could not get the hang of delivering a lesson that maximized student-talk while minimizing teacher-talk to what was necessary. There is science behind the paradigm. Students speak better English when given the chance to speak. There is art in the process.
I wrote the letter. There was a lot missing between the lines. Yes, he had successfully fulfilled the requirements. He was personable and kind. He was always willing to jump in where needed. I left out the part about his students rarely having a chance to speak English since he did all the talking. I left out the part where given help and support, he never changed his delivery. I left out the speculation that students under his tutelage were unlikely to improve their spoken English. I didn’t say any of those things.
I posted the letter — to the woman who had thrown that paper across a table at me all those years before. He got the job.
(The photo shows Hillary Clinton visiting an Amideast EFL class during Women’s History Month in 2009. See more about that visit here. https://still4hill.com/2009/03/06/hillary-at-an-amideast-event/)
