MIAMI HIGH SCHOOL MIAMI HIGH SCHOOL Miami High School thinks outside the box for teacher recruitment

By David Abbott

Finding teachers has become increasingly difficult in rural Arizona, particularly in the past decade with waves of retirements and with enrollments in teacher certification programs dropping precipitously, but Miami High School has tapped into existing pathways for potential teachers and offered alternatives for established professionals seeking changes.

MHS has survived, in part, with the help of teachers who came from other walks of life, including former business owners, those who worked for years in industrial jobs and even a professional singer who worked on a cruise ship.

“It’s hard to explain to people, but teaching is really not something you do, it’s somebody who you are,” says veteran physical education teacher Janet Acevedo. “The good thing about being a teacher is the benefits are really good: Pay is not good, but you get really good benefits.”

Acevedo is a third-generation MHS graduate — K-12 in Miami schools as were her parents and siblings — but before she settled into teaching nearly three decades ago, Acevedo spent six years in the music business, singing on a cruise ship.

After graduating from college with a teaching degree, she entered the classroom as a teacher in Camp Verde, but music drew her in and the lifestyle was appealing.

“I actually wanted to be a teacher since I was a junior in high school, but then music really grabbed me,” she says. “I really didn’t have big aspirations, but when I got the gig on the cruise ship I thought, ‘I’m young and I have teaching to fall back on, so I’ll take my opportunity while I can.’”

During her time on the ship, Acevedo’s teaching certificate expired. She moved back to the Valley to get re-certified and attended a “teacher roundup” at ASU. Acevedo accepted an offer to teach in the San Carlos school system and spent several years there, but 17 years ago MHS reached out to her and she gladly accepted.

Her family is mostly gone from the area now and she is teaching the grandkids and great-grandkids of her former classmates. She still sings from time-to-time, but is happy with her decision to follow her youthful dreams of teaching and does not hesitate to encourage her students who want to pursue it as a career.

“I’ve talked to them and tell them they’re not gonna make a lot of money, but you really cannot stop somebody from being a teacher if that’s who they are,” she says. “I had a great lifestyle being a musician — I lived on a cruise ship — but teaching kept calling me back and I realized I could do both.”

Filling teaching positions in Arizona’s urban areas where there are more resources is difficult enough, but given economic trends in the past few years rural Arizona has unduly suffered, particularly in the wake of COVID. A system that funds schools on a per-student basis, aka “seat time,” was not prepared for the sharp drop in attendance.

While urban schools with a more affluent tax base can get as much as $18,000 per year, per student, rural schools get half that amount. That affects everything from paying the electric bills to teachers’ salaries, leaving Arizona pay near the bottom nationally.

Last year the National Education Association reported that Arizona’s average teacher starting salary of $40,554 ranked 27th among states, with the national average at $52, 157. Given the funding formulas in the state, rural instructors are at the low end of the spectrum, and either head to the Valley or Tucson area, or are lured to other states such as California, which ranks fifth in average starting salary and third with the national average in overall teacher pay.

Competition for certified educators is so tough that graduates are often hired at urban schools as soon as they graduate from state universities.

But it’s not all doom and gloom and many institutions are working to create new models to maintain a teaching presence in classrooms.

Locally, there is a “2+2” program through Eastern Arizona College Gila Pueblo Campus, where students can get a teaching degree from Mary Lou Fulton Teachers College at ASU without the need to move to the Valley. Students can earn associates degrees and can virtually attend ASU classes from the Gila Pueblo campus through the program.

There are also internship programs placing teacher candidates in real classrooms that are then supervised by a qualified teacher monitoring multiple interns. Additionally, virtual learning networks are becoming more wide-ranging and efficient in the wake of the pandemic, although funding mechanisms are lagging behind the new instructional models.

MHS continues to give support to its students that are interested in the profession, but many teachers are drawn by the chance for a new beginning later in life.

Dan Hill, who runs the culinary program at MHS and is set to become the administrator of the Career & Technical Education program, owned and managed several furniture stores from Mesa to Alaska. He became a teacher when the “Great Recession” of the late-00s shuttered his stores.

After spending a lifetime in the business he learned from his family, Hill “lost everything” and was suddenly looking for a way to survive. Taking advantage of the Obama-era Workforce Innovation and Opportunity Act, Hill was able to get his teaching certificate and became qualified to teach English, Government, Japanese, Economics, Psychology, Criminal Justice and Culinary Arts.

After four years teaching at an alternative school in Globe, Hill was incoming MHS Principal Glen Lineberry’s first hire. Hill says that although modern classrooms can be a tough working environment, it not only gets easier, but is highly rewarding.

“I’ll have kids come back years later and thank me” he says. “I had a student who went to a college in New York and wrote an entire essay about me as her most influential teacher, so there’s gratification that comes down the road. But if you only teach for a year or two, it’s hard to stick with the profession.”

Similarly, Phys Ed instructor Sammy Gonzales came to teaching from an industry that took a big economic hit around 2009. Gonzales, currently a councilman and former mayor of the Town of Miami, graduated from MHS in 1987 and went into the automotive industry at the age of 16.

He was working at a Chevrolet dealership in the Globe-Miami area when the industry consolidated and his shop was on the verge of closing down. He had his AA degree from Eastern Arizona College, but was focused on the job where he “thrived.” At the time, he was going through a divorce and working six days a week.

Gonzales enrolled in the teaching program at Northern Arizona University during one of the worst teacher shortages in the 21st century and went to work in the San Carlos school district for two years.

As soon as there was an opening though, he grabbed the opportunity to teach at his alma mater.

For Gonzales, the transition from the fairly roughand-tumble, “testosterone-y” world of car culture to the classroom was tough, but he stuck with it and has been in the classroom for more than 12 years.

He says that the perception of teaching as a parttime job is not the reality, and people close to him have learned a different perspective through his efforts.

“People come from all walks of life into the education system,” Gonzales says. “There’s a possibility that people think they can’t get into the education field because they’re too old. They should understand that no, they’re not the only one thinking that, and yes, they can do it and achieve it.”

Building a Reputation, Ground Up

Blue’s Shop went into business as a detail shop. Then Blue hired a mechanic. A job doing detail on a single U-Haul vehicle led to a job doing the whole fleet. Blue and Lisa became U-Haul vendors. Soon after, Blues Fabrication was added.

Now Blue and his talented team are building cars valued at $90-100K, from the ground up. A ‘51 Chevy from Duncan AZ. ‘68 Camaro from Florida. A man who had business with the mine came in for a detail and then asked for a full restoration. .

“He asked if I’d build him a Camaro,” Blue says, “with stuff out of a brand new Corvette.”

Word of mouth has put Blue’s Shop on the map. The quality of his work is attracting top talent. A month ago a guy in Minnesota called; he wanted his 69 Bronco torn apart and built anew; he wasn’t asking for Blue’s references.

“I already did my footwork,” he told Blue, “I want you to build it.”

For Blue, the recognition is a bit overwhelming, but he has even bigger dreams for the future – a new showroom is in the plan, and in the dream, a TV show.

“I’d like to show the United States what we can do,” says Blue, “in historic, small town Globe.”

Blue also builds custom bikes; he has six of them but doesn’t ride any more. Lost too many friends that way. He still likes his hotrods. The ‘68 Chevy C10 has been a favorite for the past 30 years.

“All our hard work has paid off to an unforeseen blessing,” says Lisa. “If we wouldn’t have come this way, we’d still be down our dirt road.“

Humble Beginnings, Bold Moves

Blue and Lisa were young and just getting by when Blue saw a car on the side of the road and though they had bills to pay, he wanted to buy it.

“Within a week, I sold that car,” says Blue. “Doubled my money.”

That’s when Blue knew this was something he could do, and that someday he would own his own business. For 25 years, he worked as a miner for Asarco. He fixed cars in the evenings and weekends.

“We bought our first property in Catalina,” says Lisa. “Dug all of it by hand.”

Blue traded a Camaro for a “piece of junk trailer” that became their house. They lived in it for a year as a family of four without gas or electricity. Lisa warmed their baths by fire. An ice chest held eggs, cheese and milk. Blue hung out with an old-school painter and learned the skill.

In 2014, Lisa was diagnosed with breast cancer. Her youngest child was in high school and she ran a full-time daycare at home. By the time she was in remission, the kids were all gone. Lisa and Blue purchased a fifth wheel.

“We bounced around,” says Lisa. “We had fun.”

Both originally from Oracle, Blue and Lisa have known each other since first grade. They made their first communion together. Her family was poor, his parents were divorced. In high school, they reconnected when she approached him at a car wash. He had his defenses.

“If you’re looking to get married, I’m not your guy,” Blue declared. “I’ll never have kids and I’ll never have a four door.”

In January, the couple celebrated their 35th anniversary. They have three children, grandchildren, and two Queensland Heelers. Their first four-door was a 1988 Ford Tempo.

Moving to Globe

“It’s all about taking chances and making changes in our lives,” says Lisa.

Blue had always wanted to live in Globe. As a boy, his father would bring him here, to fight chickens at Wheatfield and go fishing at the river. He was just a kid driving through, but he thought it was a cool town.

“If you want to go, let’s go now,” Lisa said to Blue.

Their 4-bedroom house in Catalina was paid for; the kids were grown and gone. Breast cancer was in remission.

“I think she just called my bluff,” says Blue, “You’d better man up and go do it.”

They moved to Globe in 2016. Both are glad they did.

“We knew that we liked it when we first started meeting people,” says Lisa.

“People are real here,” says Blue.

Blue had acquired a lot of vehicles by this time. A buddy led him to an old boat shop property for sale. Blue made an offer and Kenny Simpson, the old owner of the boat shop, responded.