The 鈥渏eans pass.鈥� Our parent-teacher-student organization offers teachers the opportunity at the beginning of every school year: the option to pay for the privilege of wearing jeans one extra day per week. I always end up giving in, but the decision causes conflict. Why should I have to fork over more of my own money?
Then I remind myself that buying and supplying without reimbursement is standard protocol for teachers. It always has been. While other professionals have supply closets stocked with business essentials and can expense incidentals needed by clients (read: students), the majority of teachers bear the brunt of any and all 鈥渆xtras鈥� themselves.
But back to the jeans pass. It鈥檚 a fundraiser run by our PTSO. At our school, we are already given the privilege of wearing jeans on Fridays, but with a jeans pass, teachers can wear jeans on Mondays as well鈥攆or a price. Other schools have relaxed their dress codes throughout the pandemic. Not mine. For $25, teachers get to wear their denim every Monday for the entire school year.
We teachers are reminded that the money raised goes toward a few meals we are provided by the PTSO throughout the year. The money is also used to send sympathy flowers if a staff member鈥檚 immediate family member dies and celebration flowers if someone on staff has a baby. That鈥檚 quite a spectrum of joy and sorrow! And it all rides on faculty members鈥� decision about the pass.
Every year, I internally debate my options. Is an extra day of jeans-wearing a week worth the outlay? Yet 25 bucks over the span of an entire school year feels like a bargain! But why should I have to spend my own money on that? But what about all the people that might lose a loved one or have a baby this year? What about them?
Do I even have any jeans that fit me? Are there any stipulations on the kind of jeans? Can I wear jeans with holes like the students? (I have worn ripped jeans, and no one seemed to care, but I still don鈥檛 know if this is actually OK.) Should I hold out for a $50 a year sweatpants policy?
The questions roll on: What if everyone else wears jeans on Mondays, and I feel left out? Wait, who is even going to remember if I paid to wear my jeans on Monday? Are some of my colleagues out there wearing illegal Monday jeans? Is there an undercover Monday jeans police I don鈥檛 know about?
Why can鈥檛 teachers ever be given something with no strings attached?
This internal dialogue goes on all week until I reach the deadline, and I ultimately cave.
Teachers are nickel-and-dimed to death anyway, so I once again adopt the 鈥渋t鈥檚 only鈥� attitude and write my check. It鈥檚 only 25 bucks. It鈥檚 only a box of dry erase markers. It鈥檚 only a box of tissues. It鈥檚 only a Costco-sized bottle of hand sanitizer. It鈥檚 only a class set of novels. (Yes, I once bought 25 copies of No Fear Shakespeare: Romeo & Juliet because my students were struggling through the play, and the only way I could manage to get them through it and maintain my sanity was for each of them to have a copy.)
I have 鈥渋t鈥檚 only-ed鈥� myself into accepting that I will always be asked to supply things on my own dime and my own time. It鈥檚 just what teachers do, isn鈥檛 it? Adopting the 鈥渋t鈥檚 only鈥� mindset almost feels like an act of desperation. It鈥檚 a way of protecting yourself from the knowledge that you are spending your own money to make classroom ends meet and to meet expectations.
It can happen so often that even extreme instances can be rationalized with 鈥渋t鈥檚 only.鈥� Years ago, I was 鈥渧oluntold鈥� to make Christmas ornaments for the entire faculty and to teach a weekly yoga class to staff members after school as part of a wellness initiative. With a promise of payment that never materialized, my time and money spent became 鈥渋t鈥檚 only 175 ornaments鈥� and 鈥渋t鈥檚 only an hour a week.鈥�
After experiences like these, why should paying to wear something functional (jeans equal pockets!) come as a surprise? Or for that matter, paying to get a 鈥渇ree鈥� meal at school every now and then?
And so it continues, normalizing the idea that teachers should be paying for things to make their jobs easier or better, including resources to improve their effectiveness in the classroom.
Why can鈥檛 teachers ever be given something with no strings attached? As a professional adult who sacrifices so much for this profession, should I really be grateful for the opportunity to purchase the option to wear the pants of my choosing one day per week?
After years of paying, I have come to realize that I actually don鈥檛 love jeans enough to pay to wear them in the future. In fact, I took them off and changed into sweats to sit down and write this essay. Next year, my hard-earned cash will stay in my pocket鈥攅ven if that pocket is metaphorical.
