Athens, 12th February
I woke up unwell today. This is the third time I’ve been ill since the beginning of the school year. It’s easy to catch something in class. I teach music in two state schools but as a supply teacher, so I’m not entitled to sick leave. When I get ill, I just don’t get paid, plus I lose the social security stamps.
That’s not the case with the permanently employed teachers, but supply teachers are like second class workers in Greece. We are laid off in mid-June, when schools close for the summer holidays. Then, we have to survive on the 400 euro unemployment benefit for the summer. My rent alone is 500 euros –that’s half my wage during the rest of the year.
You might think that’s OK as we’re only substituting for colleagues on leave, but that’s not the case. In Greece, we actually fill permanent job vacancies in state schools. “Supply teaching” in my country is just a scheme invented by the state to save money on education by giving part of the workforce unstable contracts. Some of us, including myself, are paid through the EU’s National Strategic Reference Framework. I wonder if the EU is aware that their money is used to employ teachers in conditions that do not respect labour law.
Have you seen reports about Greek teachers sleeping in tents on some islands? That’s us. Supply teachers are notified just two to three days before the start of term whether or not they’ve got a job for the year —and they are sent to cover vacancies all over the country. So, you have to pack quickly, travel to that school’s town or village and find a rental ASAP.
As if it’s not enough having to leave your home city at a moment’s notice, colleagues are then met with unbelievable rental policies. Particularly on the islands, most accommodation is only available for us off season- locals prefer renting their properties at higher prices to tourists. Where are we supposed to stay the rest of the time? Thus, some put up tents while seeking a solution.
We also don’t know if we’ll be employed the following year, or when; it can be in September (when the school year kicks off) or later on.
I’ve been teaching since 2010. I love my profession. There are magical moments with the kids. But I’m 46. I can’t go through this hardship and uncertainty again this summer. So today, I made some phone calls to explore my options working as a tour guide during the tourist season.
Although, I’m not even sure I could physically cope with working in tourism. I had cancer a few years ago. Blood cancer. I’ve been to hell and back. I might not be under chemo anymore, but it has crippled my body forever and left me with an autoimmune disease.
The state doesn’t give a damn about this. They don’t even give me work in a school closer to my home, or in one which is more accessible, with an elevator or a ramp etc.
The state is equally uncaring about the pupils. In one of the schools I’m teaching at this year, the board applied for a school nurse for the kids suffering with haemophilia and epilepsy back in September, and they didn’t send one until late January. For four months, I was just praying that a medical emergency wouldn’t happen under my watch.
Nor does the state seem to care about the schools we teach in. Back in 2010 and 2011, at the beginning of the Greek crisis, I was teaching at a school in a very poor area. There was no heating. Some classes didn’t even have electricity. When it rained water would leak in, because the damage caused by the 1999 earthquake was never fully repaired. The whole situation reminded me of the film “Christ Stopped at Emboli,” as this place was simply bypassed by all civilization and care. At the same time, the then Education Minister was talking about equipping schools with interactive whiteboards.
Not much has changed since then. Fancy announcements are made, while public schools suffer more and more from under-staffing and collapsing infrastructure.
I keep recalling what a wonderful German professor I had at University once told me: after the Second World War, the first measure Germany took to rise from its ashes, was to double the teachers’ wages. That’s because they considered teachers crucial for the nation’s resurrection. In Greece, it’s like we have to apologise for existing.
