Teachers on strike in Madrid: "Our job is a carousel of anxiety leave"

The education strike called in the Madrid region on October 14 brought thousands of teachers together on the Paseo del Prado, with a turnout of 70% according to Comisiones Obreras (a major Spanish trade union) and 44.6% according to the regional education department. The unions are demanding fewer teaching hours, lower student-to-teacher ratios, more staff specialized in special educational needs, pay rises and better infrastructure.

The date was marked in red on the calendar of every public school in the Madrid region. **October 14** was D-day for teachers. The strike began in the morning, with a turnout of **70%** according to Comisiones Obreras and **44.6%** according to the regional education department, and rallies had been organized, such as the one at the Puerta del Sol. But the much larger protest was expected in the afternoon. The first day of the strike did not disappoint, and thousands of people marched along the Paseo del Prado from Atocha towards the Puerta del Sol, which for three weeks had been the heart and symbol of all social protests in Spain.

To the housing protest is now added this one for education, called by the main trade unions. They demand, among other things, fewer teaching hours, lower student-to-teacher ratios, more staff specialized in special educational needs, pay rises and better school infrastructure. These are the stories of five people who took part in the education march and their answer to the big question: why are they here?

## Counselors with more than 500 students each

Marta Muñoz is **33 years old** and works as a counselor and head of studies at the **IES Atenea in Alcalá de Henares**. Her diagnosis is blunt: "Our job has become a carousel of anxiety leave, and I see that my colleagues and I are in a situation of extreme work stress that makes it impossible for us to provide a quality service to students." She believes that a counselor's work is the great connecting thread between all the different parts of a school. "We have to attend to students, but also to families and to our colleagues, who need us to train them so they have the tools to support special educational needs," she says.

The counselors came to the strike with a concrete goal: that no counselor in any school should have more than **250 students** in their care. "The reality is that each of us has at least more than **500**. That means we have to screen cases. In other words, a priority list is drawn up, as if it were a war. Those with the most obvious needs are attended to; those who need help but could just about manage are put at the bottom of the list. And the list is endless because of the enormous vulnerability there is. It's harsh, but that's how it is," she admits.

## "They play on our vocation"

Mamen Prieto is **59 years old** and teaches early childhood education at the **Dulcinea** school, also in Alcalá de Henares. Her motivation for being at the march is generational: "We fought for an egalitarian society in which humble people from the countryside could study and get a degree. I was the first university graduate in my family. My family is from Guadalajara. My father sacrificed himself at the factory and my mother at home, and I was able to study and get a permanent position right after qualifying. I want the same opportunities for my daughter, who has also studied to become a teacher. Education should be our crown jewel."

She says she feels proud of her profession and, at the same time, angry to see that her more than **30 years** of experience have not translated into a better service. "Schools have very, very tight budgets. We went years without sand in the playground because it was never replaced. On the outskirts, schools are often crumbling buildings with no shade. **30%** of the school year, you can't be outside," she laments. "I think they play on our vocation. They know that sometimes we think more about the children than about our own kids. We are in love with our profession. But we need to be well. If we are well, they —the students— will be better off," she reflects. "If we are one of the richest countries in the world, I want that to translate into education. Education is the jewel. Let our work shine, because we give our lives for it," she concludes.

## Sixth form classes with 38 students

Nacho Pecharromán is **30 years old** and teaches Mathematics at the **Joaquín Araújo secondary school in Fuenlabrada**. You could say he is privileged among the young people of his generation: in the last round of public teaching exams he obtained a permanent position. A stable job at 30 is something not everyone can claim. However, the harsh daily reality at his school weighs more than his sense of privilege. "I passed this year, but I've had more than enough time to see that the differences between public and private education are abysmal," he says.

Pecharromán taught for three years at a private school. "To begin with, the diversity of the student body: in the private sector there is a filter that keeps problems away. But there are also differences when it comes to neurodivergence, that is, special needs. The percentage in the private sector is almost nil, while in the public sector it is extremely high, and the resources, as is well known, are very scarce in Madrid. I have not yet heard a single veteran say things have improved. They all agree that teaching gets harder for them every year. Something paradoxical, since their experience is supposed to have made them better teachers," he points out. "Just to give an example, at my school the special education teachers have been cut, while the student body remains the same. In sixth form there are **38 students** per class. Madness," he says.

## Substitute teachers at number 600 on the list

Aroa Gil is **34 years old** and a substitute early childhood education teacher. She pushes a stroller along the Paseo del Prado. Sitting in it is her **4-year-old** daughter, watching the swarm of people dressed in green T-shirts like her own as they sing "The teacher, fighting, is also teaching." The little girl is also carrying a sign complaining about the lack of air conditioning in classrooms with children under five. Her position on the list, around number **600**, only allows her to cover short-term temporary absences. "I've already been at two schools so far this school year. Hardly any vacancies come up compared to the high demand," she complains.

"Apart from that, which is a temporary situation, I'm here so that what others fought for is not cut back. Stop privatizing education. Privatization is the denial of a basic right, which is equal opportunity. At the early childhood level, not meeting the class size limits has very serious consequences. It means there are children the system does not serve and who, through no fault of their own, start carrying a backpack at the age of three that will only get heavier over time," she says. In her view, "without a solid foundation, the only thing you can aspire to is putting out fires. The resources we have, with a great deal of effort from teachers, are only good for that. What we should aspire to is for our work to be something more, to get ahead of the problems," she observes.

## Leaks, asbestos and a façade that is falling apart

José Serrano is **59 years old** and teaches Geography and History at the **CEPA Vallecas**. He laments that, together with his colleague Susana, they are the only two teachers from the center who came to the demonstration. "It hurts us deeply. The future of public education needs us," he says. A CEPA is a center for adult education. He says he ended up at this type of center "by chance." "I passed the public exams in **2010**, and there were so many cuts in Madrid that there weren't even positions for those of us who had passed," he recalls. "This system has ruined my life since I got my position; I haven't been able to make a life plan. To begin with, it's almost impossible to pass first time with a 10. You have to spend years as a substitute in small towns. Then you pass and they send you on probation and cut a third of your salary. If you're lucky. Then you have to request a transfer every school year, blindly. If there's nothing where you want to go, you have to leave. When you're given a permanent post, you're obliged to stay two years and then wait for the next round. In short, you can end up like me: at **59 years old**, after **24 years** working for the Madrid regional government, I have never been in the school I wanted. I'm here because I want that to change," he says.

It angers Serrano that Madrid acts like a "modern city" while its public education is "completely abandoned." "Our center has been formally reported since **2017** for leaks, because it has flooded several times, because the roof has asbestos, because the façade is falling off in chunks. We're talking about students who can be 80 years old. Do you think those are conditions for an elderly person or a migrant with few resources to be able to learn anything? I think the answer is obvious," he questions. "I'm here because we have many responsibilities and none of them are recognized," he concludes.