The hammer has come down, so now what?

So now what?

Last night at a special board meeting the school board announced their decision to “impose the district’s last, final, and best offer” for a large reduction in pay for all Ramona teachers.  Before officially telling us what we already knew was happening, teachers and community members were given one last chance to say what they thought and to plea for a more reasonable bargain (or any bargain at all, I guess).  I’d say at least 20 people got up to speak.  I thought all of them were well prepared.  There was lots of passion, sadness, and hurt conveyed, but all of it was respectful and heartfelt.  Even some of the school board looked concerned for the first time since I’ve started attending board meetings.  I felt very proud to be amongst such fine people, and more connected to the teachers I don’t know than ever before.  

In the end no amount of honest emotion could sway the people who have had their minds made up for months.  The new cuts are a bit complicated because they come from a number of sources (furlough days, salary, benefits, retirement, etc), but basically teachers have to take an 8% pay cut retroactive for 6 months for this year.  Then in the fall the cut moves to 9.5% plus additional monies for benefits.  Nobody ever wants to have a reduction in salary.  It’s very painful for families.  This pay cut, however, is more detrimental than most because of the retroactive stipulation.  Can you imagine how it would feel not only to have your future paychecks lowered, but then to have to go back and pay for money you’ve already spent?  It’s absolutely devastating to me and the other 250 teachers.   Our paychecks will be cut in half two times, and then we won’t get paid again for another 3 months.  

What in the world will we do to survive?  What will I do?  The amount I will lose is the equivalent to 5 months mortgage payment. It’s the entire amount I have saved up to pay my bills for the summer.  This cut means having to spend the next month frantically searching for a summer job.  This cut means no birthday parties this year, no swimming lessons or soccer.  I don’t even know how to manage traveling for my only sister’s wedding. I feel a deep pain of worry in my chest that at the moment I don’t know how to erase.

And yet...

And yet, I know that I must keep going on.  I must keep doing the best I can because too many people rely on me each day.  So what is my plan for what to do next?  Well, it’s the same it’s been all year: I’m going to live like a kindergartener one day at a time.  When Aaron asks in the morning, as he did today, “Mommy, I paint?” I’m going to scoot aside the lunch boxes, quickly sign whatever papers I have, put away the laundry until later and say, “sure, Honey, let’s paint.”  When Ethan overlooks my exhausted face and exclaims (again experienced today), “It seems like a good day for ice cream.  Let’s get some ice cream,” I’m going to say “Ok” as often as possible.   I’m going to say my prayers, eat my meals, read my books, and keep living.  And I’m going to keep teaching too--because it’s what I do.  I I couldn’t stop even if I tried.

I’m going to do whatever I can to trick my family into thinking that everything is alright.  And then maybe, if I’m convincing enough, I’ll manage to trick myself too.