I realize that a Marine Biology teacher might not seem like the world's dirtiest jobs, but it has its days. I live and work in Gulf Breeze Pensacola at Gulf Breeze High School. Most days are pretty much normal classroom activities: lectures, activities, and labs. Pretty standard actually. But when we get dirty, we get really dirty. So dirty, the entire school seems to know what's going on in my room.
About half way through the course, we begin the dissection of animals. Included in this list are starfish, sharks, perch, squid, crawfish, etc. (During the days I teach Zoology, the list may also include scorpions, mole crabs, pigs, ferrets, pigeons, cats, fetal pigs, etc.) Now it still may not seem so bad... we're just slicing into dead animals right? I wish it were that simple. Let us use the perch dissection as an example.
I begin my preparation the night before. The 10 gallon bucket of perch must be opened, drained of formaldehyde and soaked in water. Opening the container itself starts the worst part of my job. The stench of rotten fish combined with the preservatives makes even the strongest stomachs go weak. It’s a smell that permeates everything. The soaking is a vain attempt to remove some of the smell.
Bright and early the next morning, the students come in. They know its dissection day because you can smell my room as you round the corner into the hall. (The administration thinks they know when I am dissecting because the smell actually permeates the walls into the offices adjoining my room.) Most complain, but they have no idea (I could not soak them). We spend the next hour picking apart the fish, labeling each organ and vessel that is important to evolution and survival in the vast seas.
During the slicing and labeling process, somehow, everyone seems to get something on them. As you make your initial cut, scales go flying. When you open the fish, the swim bladder inevitably squirts the person across the table. Juices from the fish soak through the newspaper, coating the desks and running onto the floor (and shoes and backpacks). No matter how many precautions are taken, someone always gets nasty. Usually that someone is me. I have the guts to rip into the fish, and get squirted, so I end up being the one doing the ripping for the squeamish groups.
Five hours of dissections each dissection day. That’s five hours actually in the fish and almost eight hours in the smell of my room. I go home with scales in my hair, flesh under my nails (the gloves don't really fit my small hands, so by the end of the day frustration with them turns into bare hands in the fish), juices on my clothes and the most horrific smell in my hair.
It takes a few days for the smell to completely leave me and the classroom, but usually by then, we have started on another animal and it all starts again. This time though its a different animal and a whole new set of juices and lovely smells.
Mike, come rescue me from my dirty job and help give science teachers around the world a little bit more respect.
