Oct 11, 20195 min read

My Experience with a Teachers' Union

Updated: Apr 20, 2023

God’s gift to the working man or wolves in sheep’s clothing? I side with the latter. Though small, my first experience with a union left an indelible impression.

The bait

I was a first year teacher in Gilbert, Arizona and the start of the year was chocked-full of meetings. At the new teacher orientation we were welcomed to the district by various groups. One presentation was the district reps for the Arizona Education Association (the state’s largest teachers' union). They were lively, heartfelt and spoke of a coalition of professionals that were there for us, especially first-year teachers: to give us the support we needed, help us find success and navigate our new careers. They were there for us...right?

Maybe it was the thrill from the start-of-the-year celebrations, perhaps the financial protection they offered in case a loony parent wanted to sue me, most likely - it was the free chocolate.

I signed up.

Fast forward a couple weeks and I received my first paycheck; I nearly cried when I saw my take-home pay. After some investigation and pondering, I decided to withdraw from the district union. Every month I paid them about $40, not a lot of money, but a tank of gas nonetheless, so I decided to opt out.

The flip

I called the district rep, the same one I had seen at the presentation smiling and reassuring us that they were here for us, the teachers. Well I called him, and calmly explained that after seeing my take-home pay I decided that I just couldn’t afford the dues and would like to withdraw from the association.

Instantly in a raised, almost voice of panic, he exclaimed, “Well…we need our money too!”

That….wasn’t….what I was expecting. I was expecting to hear about all the benefits I received as a member and that the monthly cost was easily worth that. Or maybe he had suggestions to increase my income, like tutoring or coaching. But the friendly “we work for you” sheep show was gone - fangs exposed. I tried to explain myself and defend my decision, it was to no avail. He refused to let me out of the agreement.

I wasn’t done pleading my case. All year I emailed the Gilbert Education Association, taking the angle that they promoted their organization as one that was there to help meet the needs of us teachers, especially new teachers. I explained to them that as a new teacher, as odd as it sounded, that was what I needed; to be let out of my financial obligations to them so I could better adjust to my new income.

It didn’t work. I kept paying them every month until the next school year when they finally obliged my request.

Now you may be thinking, hey fatty, you signed the contract and were obligated to fulfill it, your fault.

I agree, I am responsible for signing the contract. My complaint is what I saw at their presentation is not what I got; there was no regard for my situation, no attempt to listen and support me, or even convince me to stay. Literally as soon as I told them I couldn’t afford it, he spewed out, what I consider to be their real motive, “we need our money.”

The facts

But they work for teachers, unions are there to take care of them.

Are they though? Are union motives truly altruistic? One of their biggest criticisms is the allocation of funds received from their members. When researching the Red for Ed movement of 2018, I came across this little number: the AEA's tax statement, made public because of their “non-profit” status.

In 2017, the Arizona Education Association (whose local affiliate I was a part of through my district) had six employees making six-figures; including benefits their salaries ranged from $155,00 - $214,000...

…the average teacher salary in Arizona, according to their very own website: $49,892.

The average principal salary in AZ : $88,898.

And the average pay for superintendents in the Grand Canyon State: $139,470.

Oh the fun doesn’t stop there. More than 50% of their revenue went towards salaries, benefits and other compensations. That means more than half of their $7.5 million budget went to...paying themselves...at least it's better than the year before, it was almost 68%.

And in case you missed it, that $7.5 million budget is made possible by ---- public education employees: teachers, counselors, bus drivers, secretaries, and more provided the AEA with more than $5 million from dues. Keep in mind that the AEA used over $4 million of that to pay themselves ---- wolves in sheep’s clothing, sure makes you wonder.

This isn't unusual. According to an analysis by the Center for Union Facts, labor union presidents' average compensation (salary and benefits) was $283,678 in 2016. That's $60,000 more than what the average CEO made; $194,350 according to Bureau of Labor Statistics.

The fallout

Fast forward almost a decade and I’m sitting in more orientations, this time in the beautiful, politically charged region of the Pacific Northwest. Many years older and wiser too, I was enjoying my free donuts when the district union rep came in.

Bouncing around the gym, she talked about everything the union does for us, except this time I was paying close attention. I couldn’t help but smile when she exclaimed that she worked for us! She literally did, her entire paycheck comes from employee dues.

You see Washington is not a right-to work state. This means regardless of joining, I was forced to pay $80 every month to the union, for the benefits I enjoyed or may enjoy in the future, made possible from their efforts. And for a mere $7 more a month, I could be a full-fledged member complete with voting rights, obligatory meetings (on top of an already packed schedule), and peer-pressure to participate in early morning picketing. (You wonder why teachers are so grumpy?)

I declined. So while my co-workers passionately deliberated issues in the lunchroom…I stayed out of it and did my job. Which is why I was there in the first place.

Perhaps you’ve had better experiences with your union. As for me, I've seen on paper the very reason they were so quick to shout out their motive; money. They didn't care about me - they probably don't care about you. Two-hundred grand is a pretty penny to be sitting on and they'll say or do whatever they need to stay there. For me, I've learned to run away from the wolves, and keep my money.