Indian River County School District, please prove me wrong

I shut the door to my 1997, green, un-air-conditioned Pontiac, wiped the sweat of a twenty-minute drive from my forehead, and slowly shuffled up the sidewalk, toward Oslo Middle School. I had arrived in response to a posting on the Indian River County School District website, advertising a Middle School Social Studies teaching vacancy, and brought with me, every intention of introducing myself to the school principal.

Having recently graduated with a degree in Secondary Education from Palm Beach Atlantic University, I held a portfolio of my teaching, state certified accomplishments under my right arm and wore the debonair of Ron Clark on my left sleeve. Arriving at the front office, I quickly checked my reflection in the tinted doors, pausing to adjust my tie and tuck the back left corner of my brown long sleeved shirt into my thick khaki pants. I entered.

Instantly, both a wave of conditioned air, and the eyes of a concerned receptionist barraged my unorthodox and unseasonable attire.

“How can I help you today,” she said, very politely.

I swallowed

“Umm,” I began. “I was hoping to have a quick word with the school principal.”

Confusion.

“In regards to the advertisement for a social studies teacher,” I continued.

“All hiring is handled by the school district, and the applications are online,” she replied, having already stealthily retrieved a slip of yellow paper and begun writing. “Besides, our principal has several meetings, and the vice principals are on lunch duty,” she continued, still writing.

“I’m willing to wait,” I chimed in. “Can I sit here in the lobby?”

She hesitated, and a moment of unwieldy silence passed through the tense office air, as we both contemplated whether or not mine was a legitimate request.

“No,” she concluded. “I’m sorry.”

We both apologized several times, and I thanked her for her time and the slip of yellow paper. It contained the name and telephone number of the principal’s secretary, which, after exiting the office, I quickly dialed, hoping to attempt to make an appointment, or at least leave a vocal record of my visit with the principal; however, her response was very much the same. She informed me that the principal could not meet with me, and that my only course of action was through the school district. Despite my best effort to explain that I had already applied to the school district, that I do in fact hold a state certificate in this specific subject area, and that I am very eager to discuss this potential position, all she could do was wish me the best of luck.

I drove away from the school grounds baffled, not with these two receptionists, but with the protocol of the system, and for one main reason. I am confused as to why the public school system would deny me the very initiative and professionalism that they taught me to have when applying for a job.

I've always been taught that, it was necessary to go above and beyond what was expected, in order to leave a lasting impression with a potential employer; to dress nicely, to comb my hair, to smile, etc. I was taught to be pro-active; to take action before action was called for. Yet in today’s public education system hiring process, at least that morning’s, I discovered these instructions to be unattainable

Simply stated, I have yet to figure out how to put a shirt and tie onto an on-line application. I cannot seem to make it smile, give it a nice haircut, and have found no setting or option for an enthusiastic handshake. An online application is not creative, it is not unique, it is not personal, and it in no way allows a potential employer to connect a face and energy to the details and qualifications he or she is reading about.

My online application will tell you that I am twenty two, that I recently graduated college, and that my work experience leaves me far more qualified to mop bathroom floors and catch Alaskan salmon; however, an online application cannot and will not display my enthusiasm and love for education, for the art of learning, for social studies, and for students.

Now I am by no means against saving paper; heck, I take my own bags to the grocery store and my girlfriend wears patchouli; I’m practically a hippie. But, I am skeptical of a system that relies on electronic applications, when selecting the best-qualified applicants for interviewing. And having worked an entire semester, student and substitute teaching, in the public school system, I have seen the colossal amounts of paper used every day, and am confident that any teacher would agree that saving trees is not at the top of this public school system’s priorities.

Maybe I am being unfair, as my application is still under review by the school district Human Resource department, which I should add, consisted of some of the sweetest and most helpful women I’ve ever met. I am still waiting to call back at the end of this week for more information, and a potential interview; therefore it is very much my hope that my lack of faith in the system will be proven wrong.

Indian River County School District, please prove to me that you do in fact care about the personality and creativity of your potential employees. Prove to me that you are not merely looking for a name that happens to have it’s fingerprints taken and a passing score on its General Knowledge test. Prove to me that your environmentally friendly application process does not strip me of the very things you taught me to possess in order to be a proficient teacher.