A Prologue
No one understands the strife many face in this work- many think it's all easy and pay us dirt cheap as if we did nothing but sleep the day away. We slave away for trying to make the world a better place, but many break under the pressure and when the joy becomes obsolete, it makes it worse. It makes us feel like we don't matter- none of what we're doing matters. We become apathetic, stressed, and we are forced to wear paper smiles in front of the little masses that contain the future, threatening to corrode it to a bleak eternity, if we even let a little bit of our repression out.
My name is Akoshi Takayama, and I'm a Japanese-American educator in a poor rural city in South Carolina. Of course- it doesn't really matter where I'm from. Educators and personnel in school systems everywhere are struggling- some go so far as to commit suicide. Sure, it may be a low amount per every one-hundred thousand individuals, but it shouldn't go that far- ever.
All of our voices go unheard by our governments- the same ones that require degrees to work for the industries they suck up to. We are required to support our classrooms out of our own pockets, to nurture even the most intolerant of ill behaved rats who don't care about anyone because they come from rich homes or abusive ones, and to risk arm and leg trying to protect them. Special Education gets even less attention than they actually need. Then you have the ones that integrate religion and politics at the core of the school itself, which should never be the case.
Schools should remain open-minded realms where individualism and self-discovery are encouraged, and where wisdom and intellect are valued over menial topics such as sports and business. Where the teachers and children can thrive together and learn from each other. When a plague hit the world, all the educators dropped their jobs altogether, knowing that they were at risk. And no one wanted to come back. Those without certifications had to step in to pick up the slack, finally knowing our pain.
I was one of those who stepped up to the plate. I haven't regretted it, but there were definitely times where I wanted to go back to my great-grandmother's little antique shop and stay there forever, in spite of how much she constantly complained that I didn't do things correctly. I've since gotten my certification and am now teaching high school fundamental forensic science, as well as biology. My husband is a well known physics researcher and professor of meteorology and quantum mechanics.
It's uncanny that we met when he had visited my great-grandmother's little oriental shop with some knowledge of Japanese to woo her over. She hadn't expected him to know any words, seeing as he was as Caucasian as he could be. I remember her immediately pulling me away from organizing vases, assuming he needed a translator and when we first met, it was immediately attraction city. I couldn't imagine being with anyone else, but I did get some backlash from my parents about marrying a white man- they only calmed down after he became nationally acclaimed for his research.
In spite of all this, we do our best to get by. Many of my colleagues have families to take care of and they need a second or third source of income to actually do so. They shouldn't need that if we were all paid adequately. Our work is more fundamentally important than they all realize. My only hope is that one day, we'll finally get the recognition we deserve.
