Let Everyone Do Without!

“I don’t have any clothes, Miss. I’m just going to drop out.”

I didn’t want him to drop out or come to school naked–I wasn’t sure which was more probable but neither seemed a good outcome. I took the kid shopping. That was Old Me. Old Me did crazy things like feed kids, clothe them, and let them go “Back to School” shopping in my cabinets–the cabinets I spent all summer chasing sales to fill.

I teach in a high poverty school. Some of my students have serious needs. To fill those needs, I’d go from store to store examining sale fliers and collect boxes of supplies. So much that if a colleague complained of being out of board markers, I could toss one over.

“You sure? Let me pay you for that.” No. It’s how teaching works. We all understand the game and we do favors for each other in times of bounty.

There have been lean years, however, where there was less bounty than an empty roll of paper towels–where I ran my groceries on thirty dollars a week and wondered if I was going to keep my house and business.

Yet still, I felt compelled to shop for my classroom. I wanted no child to do without.

Then one day, I stopped shopping. Here’s why:

I was being taken advantage of.

Teachers are by nature givers. No one goes into teaching to make a profit, expand their business, or take over the world. There just aren’t opportunities for that type of financial growth in the classroom. By nature, teachers serve and give. In my upcoming book, I tell a story where I give a student the shirt off my back [Spoiler alert: It was a hoodie and I had a shirt underneath...nothing to see...move along…]. “Shirt off my back” isn’t an expression. These things really happen–more often than you’d think.

One day, a former student told me to stop. “Listen, a lot of people are taking advantage of you. You need to stop letting them.” He stressed many students are grateful, but others using my generosity to get things. I wasn’t doing them a service. I needed to let them struggle a little and invest in themselves.

I realized he was right. There were still students in dire need. We help those students. But the kid who needed a pencil every day? No more. I wasn’t helping students, I was giving an easier path. Successful people are prepared, and find creative solutions to get what they need, even if it means giving up something else. Life’s about choices. It’s all about what students value.

I looked at my credit card statement.

It was ugly. And it didn’t lie. By reading the statement instead of mindlessly throwing some money at it every payday, I was able to see the exact things I bought for school. They were itemized–the office store, the Big Box store, the warehouse store. I was buying food and supplies–everything from feminine items to granola bars. I gave them away like a game show. In the process I was giving away some of my family’s financial security.

Then, during the Great Recession, I received an attention getter from the heavens. My credit card company more than doubled my interest rate. “What’s this?” I inquired. “I pay my bills ahead of time, and I have the highest credit rating!”

“You have a high credit to debt ratio…it’s just something they started looking at.” I cut up the card and paid it off. That radically changed the way I looked at both credit and classroom purchases. Never again would I run a credit card balance so I could buy things for work.

I thought about my corporate past.

At most places of employment, if you need something to do your job, there is a supply cabinet. I worked in Corporate America. I didn’t have to go to Staples and stock up on pencils. It was all there for me–part of the gig. If I needed something that wasn’t there, I’d tell someone or buy it. The material would arrive or I’d be reimbursed. The company wanted me to do a good job and in turn provided me with the tools necessary.

I’m a teacher. I already care about my job or I’d be somewhere in Corporate America doubling my salary. If I think about the goal, “the company wanted me to do a good job,” and the contract, “and in turn provided me with the tools necessary,” we see that in schools, the second half is often missing.

Teachers have been filling in the missing half for too long. That, in psychology terms, is called “enabling.” Enabling is when one person in a relationship continues to allow negative or dysfunctional behavior to continue by covering it up rather than insisting on the proper solution–one that corrects the negative behavior.

When teachers spend their own money on their classrooms, they are, in effect, providing a false budget–they are lying about the amount of money it takes to do the job. Schools know this, but turn a blind eye. “Mrs. So and So only needs fifteen dollars a year.” Then, they squeeze the bottom line even further. “We think you can do it for ten.” Towns are guilty of this when they don’t pass the right budgets forcing schools to pad their budgets to survive–it’s an endless cycle of dishonesty with teachers at the bottom.

Many teachers blame their bosses. I don’t. My boss is a hero. When dealing with huge unjustified cuts to her budget, she preserved the things that matter–teachers and important programs for kids. Then she said, “Now, don’t ask me for any pencils.” She shouldn’t be put in a position where she has to say that.

This is a policy problem. It rests at the governmental level–ironic, because this is the level making demands for reform which require the supplies they’re not supplying. We call that “unfunded mandates.”

The solution?

My single income household will no longer take part in covering budget gaps for unfunded government mandates. My credit cards will not make up the difference, and I will not enable students to take the easy way out. I won’t give them a big list, but I will hold them accountable for bringing a few simple things they need to succeed–something to write with, and something to write on.

The truth is, all students need is love. We don’t say the “L” word much these days–it’s controversial. I could say “compassion” but I mean love. I love my students, every one. My greatest joy teaching is in getting to know each student as an individual, breaking through the barriers, finding out how I can serve that student and lead him or her to success. I don’t need a lot of fancy stuff for that, just time to build relationships.

How do I create the time to do the things that matter? Stop doing silly things, like shopping. Stocking up for back to school items on the cheap requires planning, attention to detail, couponing, and driving around–hours of my time. I could spend that preparing to get to know them when the walk into my room in a few weeks.

“Time is money.” That’s true. In “The Four Hour Workweek,” life hacker extraordinaire Tim Ferriss talks about the value of time. Tim’s smart. He calculates the value of his time when doing a particular task in order to see what he can outsource or eliminate completely to create more value. I eliminate useless chasing down of material goods, and am concentrating on simplicity and relationship building. Teaching is about love and service. It is not about shopping. It is certainly not causing yourself fiscal harm.

Teach with love, it’ll carry you through. As for the material goods, if work doesn’t provide them, let everyone do without.

Dawn Casey-Rowe is an educator in Rhode Island who is heavily involved with tech startups focused on educational resources.  She is a regular contributor to ConversationED, Edudemic and TeachThought.  Her blog is cafecasey.com.