DEER RIVER — Susie Loeffler is a fourth grade teacher at King Elementary School in Deer River — one of dozens of teachers who've worked 122 days without a contract as of Monday, Oct. 30.
Deer River is one of many school districts in our region with a referendum on the ballot Nov. 7.
Susie also serves on the volunteer board of Northern Community Radio and writes weekly on Substack in a blog called "Sounds from My Brain." She's also involved in her church, community chorus and other organizations.
Susie recently wrote about her experience of teaching without a contract and shared it with the KAXE Morning Show as a spoken word piece.
The following is Susie's personal essay reflecting her own opinions on the situation she faces as a member of the teacher union's negotiation team.
Facebook, October 16, 2012
6-year-old-daughter, to a tired Dan: It’s because you work so hard, Daddy.
Dan: Well, we all work hard.
Daughter: But you work the hardest because you make money for us.
Dan: Mommy works just as hard and makes money for us, too.
Daughter, after a beat: REALLY?!
I’ll bet you’re wondering where this is going. “Another rant about how hard teachers work and how little they are paid?" you may be saying to yourself. Or maybe, “I follow her on Facebook. I’ll bet this is about how she and the other teachers in her district have gone 112 days without a contract.” And just perhaps, “There had better be a story about her son and his toots in class or I’m out of here!”
The truth is, I’ve been thinking a lot about time lately. Time needs to be budgeted in the same way that money does, and I’m an overspender. I’m a “yes” person. If you ask me to do something, and it sounds interesting or important, I’ll probably say yes. Oh, I’ll send a text to Dan that says, “Do you mind if I join so-and-so, it’s a once a month meeting.” He almost always give me the go ahead, with slightly more enthusiasm if it is a paid gig. I’m not asking for permission, exactly, but we both realize that every new activity on which I embark means less me at home — for the kids, and for him.
You might have more sympathy for Dan when you understand that, for the first ten years of our marriage, I didn’t do anything. I wasn’t in a choir, I didn’t join any committees or boards, I didn’t have any friends locally. Most of the time I didn’t have a steady job, and when I did it was an hour away from our home. Plus, Dan didn’t usually get home until 6pm, and we had no family near to help with childcare.
"I love my job, and I have been my district’s biggest cheerleader since I came to work here. But these negotiations, the refusal to give us a contract that is at least as good as the ones in the surrounding districts, the outright 'NO' in the face of our attempts to compromise… they are stealing my time."Susie Loeffler, Deer River teacher
Imagine his surprise, then, when we moved up north. His new job was literally a 3 minute drive from our new house, and he rarely had to work overtime. My parents were around to help fill in gaps in child-minding. Since I grew up here and was already known to the area, I immediately had requests to join church choir and community chorus. I decided to start slow with just chorus. All of a sudden, I was gone on Tuesday evenings. Dan was shocked, and who can blame him? However, he loved that singing made me happy — I hadn’t been in a choir for 20 years and it was as if I unearthed a piece of my soul that had been buried.
Slowly, more requests were made of my time. I was asked to join the planning committee for Oktoberfest — who wouldn’t say yes to new friends and beer?
I was asked to join Session as a Ruling Elder at my church — a position I had coveted since I was young.
The community chorus asked me to serve as a member of the board of directors — a terrific group of people. After abstaining my first year, I couldn’t resist the pull of church choir — another youthful wish fulfillment.
Meanwhile, our daughter’s illness was ramping up. Along with trying to manage the violent explosions in our house, there was paperwork: forms for therapist and case workers, forms for parental-fee state insurance to cover the therapists and case workers (parental-fee because we “made too much” but that’s a different rant), forms for special education evaluation, forms for temporary foster placement (for a residential facility, but isn’t THAT a gut punch!), and the list goes on. As the bill-payer and holder-of-all-family-appointment-knowledge, these paperwork duties naturally fell to me.
This last bit is tough to talk about.
There has been a lot of discussion in the last few years about emotional labor and I’m glad, but just because we know about it doesn’t mean I can let it go easily. I have been actively attempting to ask Dan to take on more of these types of tasks, the ones that are delivered to my inbox and I used to just naturally assume I needed to handle: appointments of all kinds for the kids and pets, picking up medications, picking the kids up and dropping them off, running errands for us and for the kids, and shopping for and cooking dinner. It helps a lot to have him take these things from me, especially since some of my undertakings are proving to be more intense than I anticipated.
A few of my more recent commitments actually come with a small monetary bonus, which make them slightly more palatable to Dan and to me. However, they also require more brain space than something like choir. This column is an absolute joyful surprise and I’m so happy I took the plunge; it is also pressure that I put on myself to produce every week.
I love being on our local public radio station’s board of directors, but I had to miss one of my daughter’s last marching band competitions for our big event this fall. I know in my heart that being on my teachers’ union negotiation team is crucial and right for me at this moment, but oh. I suspect Dan is weary of playing Susie Mood Roulette when I get home from union meetings: Will she rant? Will she bite our heads off? Will she sob in the fetal position? Will she be in crushed, despondent silence? Will she be near-hysterical and need a whiskey?
I have never felt this drained. The year I had active Mal de Debarquement? Not this bad.
The year I was dealing with my daughter being in residential treatment while I was caring for my friend with the brain tumor on the weekends? Not this bad.
The year my class was so hard that I cried in the Dean of Students’ office? Not this bad.
I love my job, and I have been my district’s biggest cheerleader since I came to work here. But these negotiations, the refusal to give us a contract that is at least as good as the ones in the surrounding districts, the outright “NO” in the face of our attempts to compromise… they are stealing my time.
There are endless things that are worth our time. Part of this whole Adulting experience is trying for a balance, and I’m sure I’m not alone in my struggle, and I’m my failures. I mean, look: I wasn’t going to mention contract negotiations. Bygones.
Thanks for reading.
Love, Susie
The essay above reflects the personal views of Susie Loeffler, a Deer River teacher and member of the teacher union's negotiation team.