St. Petersburg Times Online: Hernando

Weather | Sports | Forums | Comics | Classifieds | Calendar | Movies

Teachers float to find space

A shortage of classrooms forces a nomadic existence on faculty members who roam from room to room.

By ROBERT KING

© St. Petersburg Times, published October 23, 2000


When it comes to crowded schools, parents and students frequently bemoan portable classrooms or instances where teachers are jammed into rooms with 30 kids.

But probably the least visible aspect of Hernando County's crowding problem is the dozen or so teachers who roam the county's schools like nomads -- teachers with no classroom to call their own.

These "floating" teachers are yet another way the school districts sidesteps its shortage of permanent, brick-and-mortar classroom spaces.

Kelli Hilgers, in her first year out of college, is a floating teacher at Central High. She roams the school's halls each day behind a rolling cart that bears her grade book, textbooks, paper, pens, purse and other belongings.

She is, to put it simply, a borrower of other people's space.

Typically, every teacher gets one class period a day that is free from students and is intended to be used for planning. In uncrowded schools, teachers frequently just stay in their classroom.

But in schools such as Central, Springstead and Hernando, teachers often have to give up their classrooms during planning periods to make way for the Kelli Hilgers of the world. Floaters like Hilgers make camp for a single class period and then, like a midway carnival, roll on to the next stop.

The arrangement has its pros and cons.

Hilgers says the upside is that she doesn't have to deal with the annual paperwork hassle of classroom equipment inventory that bedevils other teachers. Nor does she have to invest much time in room decorating or tidying.

On the downside, Hilgers sometimes finds chalkboards filled with the host teacher's notes. And being a math teacher, empty chalkboard space is as important as a blank canvas for an artist. And then there was the time, at the start of the year, where she had to tiptoe around the CPR dummies in a classroom where health classes were taught.

All in all, Hilgers and other floating teachers complain little about a situation they have come to accept. "It's pretty much like a classroom in a cart," she said.

As audio-visual carts go, Hilgers' seems supermodified with its 300-pound load capacity and retail price -- at least on the Internet -- of $299. Called a Rubbermaid X-tra Utility Cart, it seems to have everything but a spoiler and racing stripes.

For the price, Hilgers enjoys a vehicle with room for three sets of hanging file folders: one for each class she teaches in a given day on Central's block schedule. There is a desk drawer, complete with compartments for paper clips, pens and such. And below that there is a two-door cabinet (albeit with a broken lock) for her personal items and calculators she doles out to students. "I tell them it's my desk and you don't go in there," Hilgers said. Students in Hilgers' class seem to take little notice of their teacher's mobility. "It's no big deal," senior Jeremiah Johnson said. "She's a good teacher.

Even at $299 -- district officials couldn't say for sure Friday whether their purchasing wizardry enabled them to pay less -- the cart is a bargain compared to the $800 a month for leasing a portable classroom. And that doesn't count the cost of installing and hooking up the portable on already space-deprived campuses.

Buying a portable, which can provide a long-term savings, still stings the district to the tune of $10,000.

"Floating is a reality that many of our teachers face today," Central principal Dennis McGeehan said. "It's an effort to keep dollars in the budget that are definitely needed."

It's likely to remain a reality until a new high school opens in 2002.

Unlike Hilgers, Hank Deslaurier, another teacher who floats at Central, knows what it is like to have his own room. A world history teacher with five years on the job, Deslaurier was asked to float this year for the first time. Now he prefers it to a fixed classroom.

Deslaurier likes the office that the school has set up for him in a converted teachers' lounge. He coaches girls soccer after school, and the office, unlike a classroom, can also house his store of soccer balls, uniforms and other trappings of the sport.

Deslaurier even has a small refrigerator in the office that he stocks with beverages. And as a teacher of world history, Deslaurier doesn't require a cart. "It's just easier," he said. "I got a better deal."

John Alaimo, a business systems teacher, was hired by Springstead this year as a floating teacher. He said the key to success is staying organized and knowing what you need for the day's class work. After teaching music in an elementary school and physical education in high school, Alaimo says doing the job he was trained for -- even as a floater -- is a breeze.

Not everyone is so enthusiastic about floating. "When you are in the same place all day, you get things set up. It lends itself to organizing for different types of teaching," Hernando High principal Elaine Sullivan said.

Sullivan has five floating teachers at Hernando. Springstead has four. And Central has three. Floaters are less common in the middle schools and rare at the elementary level, where stability is a necessity because teachers keep most of the same students all day.

At Central, McGeehan worries about having teachers who float. He's also concerned about what the situation means to teachers who cannot use their classroom during planning time. Then there is the fact that it can be difficult to fill teaching vacancies when the new teacher faces the prospect of life without a permanent classroom.

Charles Casciotta, who oversees curriculum in the middle and high schools, said he doubts students suffer from having teachers who float. But he recognizes there are sacrifices.

Floating teachers often have to make do without all the resources they need: supplies, props, supplemental books or even samples of good projects that former students have turned in that might benefit current students.

"It's like going into somebody else's house to watch a ballgame," Casciotta said. "It's hard to find where the beer is. It's just not as enjoyable as in your own house."

© Copyright, St. Petersburg Times. All rights reserved.