Teachers

The smell of strong soap in the corridors . . . children yelping and running, like a pack of hounds, in the early morning . . . the grimy carboniferous smell of the class room . . . children whispering and scratching their pens as the sun swings a golden ruler through the chalk notes . . . bells ringing for recess . . . the musty smell of a class room after lunch with bits of greasy sandwich wrappings in the aisles . . . more bells and the shuffle of feet going downstairs . . . two ratty brats squirming at their desks, writing out "I must learn to be polite and not to pass notes" . . . through the hot passages where cleaning women stir the dust into corners . . . . the sudden fresh darkness outside. . . .

After 20 years, Mary Byrne, teacher at the model school of the New York Training School for Teachers, began to fear the incessancy of this schoolteacher's routine. She would quite often feel a wave of hatred for her pupils, followed by a sentimental shame which made her look at them with a foolish smile. This amused the children. They could scarcely help writing smutty words on the blackboard or making noises to scare Miss Byrne. The other teachers began to notice that she seemed a little gruff when they met her on the stairs. Once she rated 35 out of a class of 40 "deficient in lessons," 25 "unsatisfactory in conduct," 22 "in effort."

Parents began to complain because their children told them that the teacher was what they termed "cuckoo." A year ago Dr. Emil Altman, chief medical examiner of the Board of Education, was called to see whether Miss Byrne was capable of teaching. After examining her with care, he stated that she was suffering from a "paranoid form of psychosis." At this, Mary Byrne was removed from her classroom, given odd jobs to do in the Training School Library so that she could earn her salary of $3,700 a year, while the Board of Education investigated her case.

Last week, there was a great hue and outcry about Miss Byrne. She had hired a lawyer to get her reinstated to her class room. Her friends said that she had been persecuted, that she had been ousted on prejudice rather than for her inability. "What," they asked, "is a 'paranoid form of psychosis'?" Reporters came to see Mary Byrne. They found her wearing a hat, looking grim, fiddling aimlessly with some papers that some one had given her. To all questions she replied: "I can't say anything--it wouldn't be professional." Another doctor investigated Miss Byrne; found her sane.

Said Hugo Newman, Principal of the school: "She had begun to deteriorate . . . her work was both technically and temperamentally unsound. . . ." Said William J. O'Shea, Superintendent of Schools: "The least we could do for Miss Byrne was to give her a chance to recover. When she did not recuperate quickly it was suggested to her that she retire on pension. That she refused to do. Finally, in October, the Board of Education recommended to the Teachers Retirement Board that she be placed on pension. The matter is now before that board. It is unfortunate, and I wish we could do more for her."

Unlike Miss Mary Byrne, Miss Emily Rowland, who taught school in New York and Virginia, always found a charm in the monotony of her career. A year ago, the University of the State of New York awarded her the degree of Doctor of Letters; last week she celebrated her 100th birthday in Sherwood, N. Y., where she lives, saying: "Both boys and girls are better than they were fifty years ago. . . . When I was a girl all boys thought that it was the thing to do to be fast and impertinent. . . . The girls in my youth were neither to be seen nor heard. . . . I am glad to have lived 100 years. . . . I intend to keep on . . . enjoying life. . . . I have fought for many things in my life: abolition of slavery, education, woman suffrage, temperance. Those victories have been won. . . ."

In Paterson, N. J., two young teachers wanted to get married to two young men. The teachers, Helen C. Friedman and Marguerite B. Ellis, asked for permission to take honeymoons after their weddings. At this, there was turmoil among the members of the School Board. "Rubbish!" shouted one member. "Do taxpayers like myself pay cash so that young women, mere chits, may go off and enjoy themselves?" Said Commissioner John Grimshaw Jr., a bachelor: "They can get married after school-hours, whether we like it or not. It would be petty business to refuse to let them take their honeymoons." His remarks carried weight; Helen C. Friedman and Marguerite B. Ellis received leaves of absence. But other members of the Board made comments. Commissioner Alexander Patterson disapproved of married women becoming teachers simply to get the money to keep a maid. John E. O'Connor, President of the Board, objected to retaining in the school system women whose husbands received salaries of from $3,000 to $5,000 because their positions should belong to women who had no one to support them.

Among the tribulations of schoolteachers, that most commonly current is the meager salary attached to the profession, the stingy pensions administered after long years of service. Last week, at a meeting of the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, it was announced that pensions and retiring allowances distributed during the last year amounted to $1,333,000.

What salary a teacher can expect to earn is indicated by the published salary schedule of Cincinnati Schools, put into effect last September. For those who have had the equivalent of two years education after graduating from high school, the minimum salary is $1,400, annual increase of $100, maximum $2,000. For those who have had three years, maximum $2,500. For four years, $3,250. For those who have taken a post-graduate degree, maximum $3,500. Four years post high school training is regarded as the ideal minimum for all teachers. In Cincinnati, 38% of the elementary teachers are college graduates.