Why there’s no salary worth being professional for

Sammy Anzer
6 min readFeb 3, 2021

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I was a professional high school teacher. I resigned when my school board demanded in-person education during COVID. More on that in a second.

My students were always surprised when they saw me doing “regular people” things. You know, like “Wow, Mr. Anzer, you listen to rap music?”

Do you remember what it felt like that first time you saw your teacher at the supermarket or in the laundromat? It was the kinda thing you would tell your friends about at school the next day:

“Yo! I saw Ms. Tambini in the cereal aisle yesterday!”

“Whaaat? What was she getting, frosted flakes?”

The reason 10th graders think that way is that 10th graders reduce humans who teach to a single identity. Just a teacher. They see teachers in the building every day, so they think that’s where teachers are all the time. Teachers teach. They grade papers. They’re like some kind of function of the school building — they probably live there and spring into existence right when students walk through the door.

That’s a dangerous idea. Because It’s always a dangerous idea to reduce someone’s humanity to a single identity.

But it wasn’t just my students who had this single identity for me. I realized my profession demanded it. I couldn’t (shouldn’t) curse, and things like listening to my rap music loud while pulling up to school would get me looks. Using slang — the language I grew up with, the language I think in — would be unprofessional.

And again, I thought: Why? I could understand why my students see me in this single-identity way, but why does my job require a single professional identity, too? Then I figured it out.

First, it’s steeped in racism. Conforming to the cultural norm of professionalism is the “white” standard. If you’re at the company party, don’t dance with your hips too much because that’s not the norm for white men. If you’re in the office and you let your “wild hair” hang out, be prepared for comments by your straight-haired colleagues. Don’t get emotional when making any decisions at your job, because that’s not what our logical, Western culture values. Also, don’t use slang, because it’s not our common agreed-upon language, even tho you kno tf I’m sayin, dawg.

Lastly, a single professional identity is a way to reduce someone, making them easier to control. And it doesn’t just happen to teachers — it happens at your work, too.

Photo by Devon LaFrance

Professionalism wants to pretend that your identity is limited to regional manager while you’re at work. That’s it. That’s your sole function. Because It’s easier to deal with you that way. Guess what? You’re not a father of three right now. You’re the entity responsible for the clients’ paperwork. And that father-of-three stuff gets in the way of you getting that paperwork to those clients, so — NO. You can’t have that extra personal time off to pick up them kids.

Professionalism wants us to pretend that we don’t have those full identities, and we even help by policing each other at work. They don’t want you to post a picture of yourself drunk at a party. Even though almost everyone who is a professional HAS been drunk at a party once in their life. Go ahead, think about that one time you were drunk at a party before you start judging someone who got caught on social media. And if you’re reading this and still saying, “I haven’t been drunk at a party, Sammy Anzer” — well, you should try it, one time. It could be fun.

Look, I’m not saying we should all post pictures of ourselves drunk at parties to change professionalism. BUT I am saying there’s something valuable in thinking about why we enforce this single professional identity on each other.

Changes are happening slowly. People didn’t feel comfortable with doctors posting pictures of themselves in their bikinis. Like, God forbid a woman should have a body underneath her scrubs and stethoscope. Women deal with it on another level; that whole argument boils down to: “Don’t wear anything that’s gonna make ME think sexy thoughts about you.” Which is ironic because, in our past, women’s professional attire was limited to “ONLY wear things that make me think sexy thoughts about you.”

But that’s changing now. In 2021, it’s getting harder for us to police ourselves to be “professional.” BECAUSE we no longer have our routines and rituals where we don these masks (not those masks — the symbolic professional ones). Angelica doesn’t put on her work makeup in her car in her best professional dress anymore. She can’t be at a conference for healthcare professionals and set up her professional booth and PowerPoint. Now Angelica is doing that same conference for healthcare professionals while her three kids are screaming in the background over a Zoom call.

It’s all mixed up. Companies can’t pretend that Angelica’s not a mother of three, a healthcare professional, and a dope plant enthusiast when they see her on that Zoom call.

And that’s a good thing. Because we were not born with the purpose to become one-dimensional beings.

So yes, I was going six nights a week to do comedy and then waking up at six AM to get to work early to go over my lessons. And I kept it a secret for five years. I was worried my co-workers would think I was unprofessional; I was afraid that students’ parents would think, “I don’t want a man that says ‘shit’ teaching my children.” Even though — we all say ‘shit’! We ALL do. But the truth is, being a comedian has made me an exceptional teacher.

I can read my students’ expressions and tell the moment they engage with my lesson. I work on language day and night to understand connotation on an expert level. When I’m writing a joke, I think about the logical progression and clarity of it to keep the audience with me, the same way I write the logical progression of a lesson to keep my students with me. Being a hard-working comedian has turned me into a harder-working teacher.

But now I have no students. People think that I don’t have any students because my school asked me to choose between my health and my livelihood. It’s not that.

It’s because my school asked me to choose between my heart and my livelihood.

They weren’t just saying, Risk your health during a pandemic. They were telling me, Do something you don’t believe in. They were telling me, Do something that could get someone’s grandmother sick. Do something that comes with unnecessary risk because we’ll make more money. Do something that goes against your purpose.

And we should wonder, What is our purpose? Is it to get a raise, or is it to provide for the people you care about? Is it to get recognized by some company, or is it to become someone that those people you care about are proud of?

Because we should be very aware of when companies, bosses, organizations, or even schools try to separate us from our purpose. And me? I can’t go for that shit.

I’m a role model for 700 black, brown, and white kids. Still. And I‘ve never taught something that I don’t believe in and you got me messed up if you think I’m gonna do something I don’t believe in.

My purpose is to bring joy to this world and educate while I do it. And I can do that on stage, I can do that in the classroom, and I’ll do it unemployed on a Zoom if I have to.

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Sammy Anzer

All I wanna do is make people laugh and change the world