Some of the states now have bureaus for placing teachers; some of the universities do it, and at the big plutocratic institutions this placing bureau becomes a cog in the machine, and is used for the browbeating of teachers. Several have told me of this kind of thing; I am permitted to recite the peculiar experience of Mr. Otto Koeb at Stanford. Inasmuch as Mr. Koeb’s name has a German sound, I mention that he is the son of a Swiss diplomat, and the incident happened in 1912, when German names were entirely respectable. Mr. Koeb had been graduated from the Colorado State Teachers’ College, and then from the University of California, and went to take a master’s degree at Stanford. As a result of his declaring himself a Socialist, he was secretly blacklisted by the “appointment office” of the university. For nine years he struggled to get a good teacher’s position, and his applications were always turned down—until finally a friend betrayed to him the reason; in the “recommendations” which Stanford was sending out concerning him there were statements about his political views, deliberately designed to keep him from getting employment!
The agencies, both private and public, of course give close attention to the character of teachers and to their opinions. I have referred to the fact that some city school superintendents require teachers to join the N. E. A. A high school instructor, whose name I am not permitted to quote, says: “I have known of many fellows who have been refused positions as teachers of printing in manual training shops because they were known to belong to labor unions. I myself carry a card, but I never tell my superiors about it.” At Wheeling, West Virginia, the official application blank asks you for “references, including your pastor.” When you furnish this information, a blank is sent to each of the references, asking among other things: “Has applicant ever shown a tendency towards extreme radicalism?” and “Does applicant take any part in church work?” Hundreds of superintendents follow this practice of asking about the church affiliations of teachers; in spite of the fact that to ask such a question of an applicant for a public position is to violate the constitutional rights of a citizen. Mr. David H. Pierce declares:
For the sake of a job, many Catholics become Episcopalians, and Jews turn into Unitarians for the time being. I know of one teacher in a small college, a Congregationalist, who has successively been Baptist and Methodist, and who has informed me confidentially that he is willing to become a member of any church under the sun, just as long as he can keep on teaching music. One of my personal friends, in seeking a college position, invariably discovers what denomination the school is, then furnishes credentials to show that he is a devout member of that particular church.
I have a letter from a teacher in California, who discusses the taming of her profession. I know of no teacher who has put up a harder fight against the gang, and it is significant that even this hard fighter asks me not to use her name; she writes:
The average teacher is a cringing coward, and boards of education play this as their trump card. The only recommendation the teacher has is a clean bill from her last berth. She is given no chance to make good in a new position. “Where did you teach last year?” is the first question she is asked. “Why did you leave?” the second one. Unless a teacher has “pull” and friends it is practically impossible for her to get a position, if she has lost her previous one by the will of the board of trustees. By this you can see it is the same with her as for a doctor to lose his certificate. Teachers know and fear this, boards know it and work it to control teachers. Boards control their teachers usually through their major domo, the city superintendent. If he is fair, and a man of convictions, the board cannot do much; but he is dependent upon the board for his position, and unless he pleases them he may go the way of the teacher who dares think for herself.
Mr. David H. Pierce has been a high school teacher for five years, and does not expect to remain one. He explained the reason in a very illuminating article published in the “Survey,” May 15, 1923. He says:
We graduated from college, having specialized, let us say, in mathematics. In the course of two years we have presided over classes in elocution, biology, economics, vocational guidance, sociology, German and chemistry. We get no intellectual stimulation from our neighbors in the school. Outside the school we are addressed as “professor,” by elderly people who do not know us. We become experts in sitting through lengthy prayer meetings and meaningless sermons. We develop remarkable skill in dodging revivals. Our names are coupled, in turn, with every eligible girl between fourteen and forty in the community. About once a month a preacher “cheers” us by saying: “Next to the ministry, brothers and sisters, there is no greater calling than that of the teacher. The opportunity to mold our youth into citizens is unlimited. I sometimes believe that they are even on a level with those who follow in God’s footsteps.”
Mr. Pierce pictures himself becoming dissatisfied with his position, and applying to an agency, and filling out a blank:
We underscore three times those subjects we prefer to teach, draw two lines under those we have taught, and add a single line for those branches we can teach. Having covered possibly twenty subjects, we are ready to prove to any school board within five hundred miles that we are the most educated, experienced and docile individual our alma mater has produced in a decade. We prepare a barrage of testimonials from board members who never entered our classroom, preachers with whom we have never had a frank discussion, and college instructors who must rack their memories to recall us.
The fact that we may be specialists in one or two branches is immaterial. The agency wants its five per cent and we want a job. We never allow ourselves to be discountenanced by strange requests. A colleague tells me that in applying for his first position he received a telegram from an agency, asking “Can you teach sociology?” He replied at once in the affirmative, secured the position and was reasonably successful. After he had assumed his duties he frankly said: “Sociology was new to me. I had to look in the dictionary to find what the word meant.”