How to be a robot: A guide to applying for teaching jobs

As a tween looking to find a job for the first time, it was always beaten into my head that in order to be successful at obtaining employment, you MUST:

1. Apply in person (and dress nicely, don't walk in looking like you rolled out of bed for christ's sake)

2. Bring ample resumes

3. Always, ALWAYS call them back or re-visit within a week to see if the position is still open, if they've reviewed your papers, kiss ass, etc.

Now I know as a bright eyed, bushy tailed 15 year old I did just that. I also know that I've always been much more mature than other people my age who scoffed at the idea of working at all let alone making themselves presentable. You were supposed to take the time to show these potential employers that you are dedicated and responsible. Showing up at the place with a resume in hand is infinitely better than applying online or calling.

Right?

Fast forward to college. I walk in to Holiday Inn trying to find an evening job to help pay rent, bills, tuition, etc. I put on my best "hire me, I'm amazeballs" outfit, resume in hand, and walk into their lobby. I am then quickly told that in order to get hired, I must go online and fill out the application that way. If we want you, we will call you. Do NOT call us.

I am shocked.

Seriously? Don't call? But I got all dressed up... but can I just speak with the manager and leave thi.... no? okay.

Fast forward to graduation, teaching application time! It's daunting, the idea that I have to have a cover letter, a whole portfolio of information about me to apply for a job. And I start browsing the websites to see what openings there are in the districts around me after I attend the career fair (and dress up, I might add). 

This is when my whole world view became warped. Because damn near EVERY SINGLE DISTRICT within a 100 mile radius told me one thing: Go to applitrack, fill out our lengthy online application, upload all your papers, click the position you're interested in, and submit. DO NOT mail us your resume. DO NOT walk in to our administration office. DO NOT, absolutely DO NOT CALL US. If you're worthy, we will call you.

What. The. Fuck.

Now there are still some apparently nostalgic districts and schools that do not abide by this ridiculous notion (including my high school alma mater, thank you very much). But the ones that would actually like to see you come in with a paper packet of your information is still extremely hard to come by.

To me, this is a travesty. I understand that many of these places get hundreds of applicants, especially for music jobs like I need. But to completely cut off the human experience? To make you "take a number" like you're in line at the DMV? To not even be able to give a real first impression aside from the same bullshit that everyone puts on their resume? The questionnaire that everyone knows how to fill out? 

What happened to good old fashioned human connections?

My first job (as most people know) teaching was because I was hired over the phone. However, the one detail that many people DON'T know is this- 2 months prior to that phone interview, I went to WMU's career fair and DRESSED UP and BROUGHT MY RESUME and INTERVIEWED with the district heads of said school in Arizona. 

THAT made a lasting impression on them, THAT is why I was called, interviewed again, and moved out to AZ within two weeks. Not because I went online and typed in what everyone knows they wanted to hear.

When I moved back, I interviewed with a district south of me. The job was perfect, absolutely perfect for me. Elementary music. I had applied online of course, and they called me. But THEY CALLED ME, not emailed me. And I interviewed. A couple days later, I received another call from the woman I interviewed with and she told me how wonderful I was, how amazing of a fit I'd be, but there was just one other person with more experience that they went with. I could tell it was actually a hard decision for them and a hard call for her to make to me. I cried and cried after that. But, I appreciated the fact that she took the time, at 8 oclock at night, to talk to me and offer the news.

Let's go to my latest failure of job apps, because it's what spurred this blog entry.

I go online, searching just in case someone needs a music teacher halfway through the year. One comes up for a school north of me. I do the online bullshit again, same exact application as the 200 other districts I've applied for. Tweaked a couple things. Done.

A couple days later, I get an automated email from the website saying I'm being invited to interview, please  check the website for 15 minute intervals and sign up for a time slot. This is where you go, etc. I find this odd, but I do it, I sign up for my time slot. But I'm SCREAMING inside. I didn't get a call, not even a PERSONAL email from the district, but an automated letter saying to pick a time slot. 

Then the mother of all ice storms hit, and my drive in the morning is brutal. I call an hour ahead to let them know I will be late, the lady is great and I finally make it 10 minutes past my time. They swapped me with someone else, no biggie.

I go in, and interview with 3 or 4 male administrators (it's a blur now). I am desperately nervous. I NEED this job, I WANT this job. This is my FIRST time meeting or seeing any of them, I have only 15 minutes to convince them that even though I haven't had a damn job in 3 years that I'm qualified to fill this position, and I've just had the drive from hell that took 2 hours. I was nervous- and you know me, I'm chatty fucking cathy when I"m nervous. I try to reign myself in, I'm giving good answers but talking TOO MUCH. HEATHER SHUT UP. And then I see it- the exasperated sigh from the principal. 

Many of you will tell me not to look into it, it probably wasn't directed at you (he WAS looking out into the lobby at the time). But I know I was sighing at myself in my head, and I have no doubt he was sighing at me as well. But that just froze me in my tracks. Really? You couldn't hold it in? I'm like a goddamn deer in headlights.

Interview is finally over, I leave, make my way back home. We will contact you in a couple days, we need to move quickly, etc.

A week and a half goes by, and I get another automated email.

"The position you have applied for has been filled." Other bs, other bs, blah blah. Do NOT RESPOND this is automated.

My professors always told me that even though it can be painful, to ask them when they call you what you could do better. How can I do that when all I get is "take a number"? How am I supposed to improve myself for future applications and jobs if I'm not allowed to speak to anyone?

How are you going to get excellent educators through an assembly line for your students? You may as well hire a damn robot.

Yes, I'm upset that I don't have a teaching job right now, as many of my fellow colleagues from school. But I'm more upset at the fact that I don't think these schools are giving us a fighting chance. I AM grateful that I got asked for an interview, albeit automated, when others did not. But it's slipping farther and farther away as time goes by. 

My advice for teenagers today? STILL put your best foot forward and walk through that damned door like you mean it, no matter what society says.

...And then I took an arrow to the knee...

Okay, so it wasn't an arrow.

Or my knee.

But it was a basement floor to my ankle at 4:30 this morning, and boy let me tell you it smarts.

Seriously, am I the clumsiest girl in the world? I feel like I'm just walking through life with constant vertigo. I have no equilibrium it seems like. But I had woken up with a desperate need to pee (and it's the WORST when it's less than an hour before you have to get up, because really, you WON'T fall back asleep that fast, so basically you're up for the morning.) and was on my way back down, half asleep and in the dark (yep, that's smart) and missed the bottom oh, 5 steps or so. I heard a loud "POP!" in my ankle and my upper body flew into the brick wall at the end of the stairs (so safe) and that was it. I was laying on the floor like a wounded dog, howling. I was trying SO hard to calm myself inside and bring my voice down but then it occurred to me that it really DID hurt that bad this time. Thank god my parents heard me because I could NOT get up.

So I cried for about a half an hour because it hurt so bad (luckily not broken though). Ended up having to call into work. Can't drive my car- who's bright idea was it for me to drive a manual today? My clutch foot is busted!

So that was my tragic morning story.

I have a couple more topics I'd like to talk about in the next few entries: Applying for a Teaching Job, religion in schools, and at some point when I'm feeling ballsy, "Government Conspiracies". And a few about video games and Harry Potter, because let's face it, I'm a nerd.

OCD and the fitted sheet

As a child, I remember everyone always teasing my mother and grandmother about their OCD tendencies. They always just called it "good sense" or "of course the dishwasher has to be filled the right way!" or some other various phrase that made them sound even crazier. Once I got into college, I'd notice here and there that I too exhibited some of these traits (though not all- my room was a constant clusterfuck of god knows what everywhere, and I LOATHE dusting enough to sneeze my way through the house every day). But now as I'm heading (swiftly) toward 30 (o.m.g. I just typed that) I'm noticing that the 'familial' OCD is rearing its ugly head.

For instance:

Alarm- It does not matter that my phone has had the alarm set for MONTHS, Monday-Thursday to go off at 5:30 AM so I can go to work. It does not matter that it's never failed me. I still have to check it multiple times before I go to bed. I'll check it, lay there, think 'oh shit, did I check my alarm?' then check it again. And sometimes again.

Keys- Because I don't want to spend $80 to get a spare key for my car, I have but one. One solo key. I've become incessant about checking my purse for them like 20 times before I lock my car doors. Or close them. Or even look at my car to make sure my keys didn't fall out of my purse and get locked in there and I might have to bust a window. Seriously, this goes through my head.

Dishwasher (god. DAMN. IT.)- Seriously, there REALLY is a way to load the dishwasher. It's not hard guys. Plates go in the bottom organized by size, pots and pans as well. If it's too big, don't put the damn thing in there! Glasses and coffee cups go up top around the outside, bowls in the middle stacked accordingly so each can get clean. Tupperware in the dishwasher is tricky- you have to wedge those suckers between things so they don't flip over during power wash time.

File folders/organizing- I'm awfully OCD about this one. I just spent about 2 hours organizing only half of my sheet music collection (which really isn't THAT big honestly) by genre, artist, instrument, vocal, etc. My computer files have to be the same way. iTunes? EVERYTHING has to have Artist, Title, Genre at the minimum and be organized into folders. 

And finally, to the aforementioned title: THE FITTED SHEET.

Don't get me wrong- I love fitted sheets. I like that they usually stay where you put them on the mattress (unless you convulse in your sleep like me in which case all bets are off). But have you ever tried folding one of them?? Some of you are going to be like, whatever, I just wad it up and say to hell with this! And 10 years ago, I was right there with you. Towels too. 

Now everything has to be folded properly lined up. and you CANNOT line up a fitted sheet. Do you start at the "corners"? do you just try to fold it in half? It seriously drives me nuts. You cannot fold one without it getting super wrinkled and that's frustrating to me.

Someone come help me fold this shit.

New Blog! Again!

Hello there readers. I'm starting yet another blog. The last one was about changing my life, eating better, exercising, etc. Which was fine. But as it usually goes, I fail at keeping up with my plans and put that blog on private so people would maybe forget my latest failure. Ha. Ha.

Anyway, this blog is different.

I find myself reminiscing a lot about stuff that's happened in my life, little stories that I want to share but never seem to. I have weird dreams that I just have to put on paper (or blog?). And I have opinions on pretty much every topic. So, I'm going to start cataloging them here! It's more fun that opening Microsoft Word and typing randomly. I get to make a pretty blog to go with my random stories!

Let's hope I keep this one up, eh? ;)

Welcome to Heather's bitchin' story time. Where the rules are made up and the points don't matter!