Every teacher has their own “copier” stories.
(emphasis on plural "stories”)
It’s Marcus this time, writing from the Pacific Time Zone. Since we’re doing the “re-brand” thing officially, I wanted to specifically focus on a major component of that: the title The Broken Copier.
But given that it’s a rite of passage for teachers to share past victories and vendettas with the copier and its multifaceted maladies, I figured that an actual copier story would a good way to begin.
Here’s one of mine:
It’s my first year of teaching back in 2012 and, like so many new teachers, I am frantically trying to get extra copies made during my planning period as a result of miscounting the number of materials I would need that day. A generous veteran teacher at that school has already taught me to procure a few reams of printing paper each time a pallet was dropped off by the district office—a norm that always resulted in a ritual flocking to the printing paper pallet by teachers like animals to a desert oasis—so the machine is humming away while I take a deep breath and begin mentally rehearsing my opening for the next period’s lesson.
Then the door behind me slams.
Turning around, I see one of the veteran teachers striding directly towards me, unleashing expletives that I will refrain from typing here. The copying machine is in the corner of the room furthest from the door, but I somehow find myself trying to shrink behind its whirring while he crosses the room in only a few strides but in far more than a few curse words. Part of me is incredibly grateful that no one else is in the room. Another part of me is incredibly concerned that no one else is in the room.
Between the expletives, I am able piece out the cause for this verbal attack: in bantering in my first class of the day with one of my more difficult students, I had made the mistake of responding to this student’s joke about my own clothing by quipping that “at least I’m not dressed like Mr. _____”—which had set the rest of the classroom into laughter and had for that small moment as a first year teacher made me feel quite triumphant.
Until Mr. _____ had me cornered against the copier, his genuine fury leaving me speechless. (talk about Pyrrhic victories, am I right?)
Of course, Mr. _____ was entirely in the right to be upset that an arrogant, first-year teacher had made a comment like that to a student, and I was forthright in listening to his entire admonishing before apologizing repeatedly and then following up with further apologies, including owning that mistake in front of the class the next day and with my administrator. Through all of this, I learned the very important lesson that an in-the-moment comment as a teacher can have very real repercussions, especially a comment as unprofessional as that one was.
(And yes, this is really not a story about a copier, but let’s call it “copier-adjacent,” which I think so many stories in education actually are. )
Why The Broken Copier as a podcast name, though?
I’ll move through three reasons (and no, contrary to some rumors, it was not because of the numerous requests for PD credit hours we were receiving for teachers nationwide under our previous Professional Development podcast name):
As mentioned in the opening of this post, every teacher has too many copier stories, from the myriad ways to jam and then un-jam (hopefully) a copier to the finagling of copying codes and hoarding of copying paper to the screeds against “too many worksheets” from the budget-cut-conscious voices looming above. So if we are going to have a podcast about teaching by teachers, why not take on the title of one of teaching’s most ubiquitous emblems?
Additionally, as Jim and I are both English teachers, we appreciate the fitting symbolism inherent in a “broken copier”—as we are well-aware of how there are far too many podcasts already out there, especially ones consisting of one white man talking to another white man about “problems” and “solutions” for fill-in-the-blank topic. As Jim acknowledged also in his initial post (while accurately calling out both of our receding hairlines, too which students have been keen observers of for a decade now), we do very much recognize how this podcast teeters on the edge of self-parody in its concept, given the current state of podcast-dom. But like teachers unplugging and trying that jammed copier one more time, we forge on!
So why isn’t it “The Jammed Copier,” then? This also is intentional (I think?) in that Jim and I want this to be a podcast that is honest about where we are in education. And just like the copier that jams repeatedly, the first step in a long term solution is the acknowledgment that it is indeed broken. Jim and I want to speak clearly from our own vantage points about what we believe is broken in our education system, as we believe that clarity is vital in the conversation—but we also do so with an eye towards hope towards how education could be better moving forward.
One more thing about copiers, though:
When I think back on my first decade in the classroom, so many conversations with colleagues happened in the copying room, often initiated by some sort of apology: apologizing for having just started a long printing order; apologizing for interrupting their printing by remotely sending your own from your classroom; apologizing for jamming the copier even though everyone else in the building knows it jams for everyone.
(Lots of apologizing in education, folks, by the way. It’s just a thing.)
The point I keep coming back to, however, is that I can’t even begin to count the number of friendships with other teachers that began right next to that copier—even with Mr. _____, who ended up having me help out with an initial revision of his writing project just months after the expletive-laden copying room assault.
Sometimes the copier actually works, right?
Few copiers are fully functional, of course, but almost always they serve as the hub within a school where conversations happen, relationships are built, and different perspectives collide with each other: conversations between new and veteran teachers; between English and Math teachers; been paraprofessionals and assistant principals and custodial staff.
Copiers bring people together, even when they’re at least somewhat broken.
Same with public education.
Hence, The Broken Copier.
And One Final Thing:
Speaking of bringing people together, Jim and I are very much interested in bringing new voices and perspectives onto The Broken Copier going forward—so don’t hesitate to reach out if there’s a topic you want tackled or if you yourself want to hop on the pod!
We encourage you also to subscribe to this Substack, as it is entirely free and simply gets you direct emails each time Jim or I jot down some thoughts here or post one of our podcasts (speaking of which, here’s a link to the most recent discussion on the Arizona legislation passed in response to the teaching shortage).
Thanks for taking the time to read through this rambling explainer if you’ve made it this far, too, and know that we are really excited about having these conversations around education in a moment that these conversations really need to be had.
We hope you join in!
—Marcus, co-host of The Broken Copier