Tony Romanello went away for a while.
But after a year and a half, he missed the kids. And this year, he'll be back in an Alta High School classroom, teaching physics.
A week before school starts, as he sets up his lab, Romanello has become resigned to the fact that he won't qualify for a much-publicized science teacher raise.
Good thing the paycheck didn't bring him back to teaching.
Romanello has taught science or math in Ohio, Utah, Germany and Turkey for 22 years. He studied physics, chemistry and math in college - enough for a few majors.
He's got stacks of awards. He's national board-certified in physics. But his degree from the University of Cincinnati is in secondary education. So he won't get the money.
A narrow legislative formula for the raises combines teachers' degrees with the subjects they teach. But most - those who majored in education and then studied for endorsements in math and science - will not get the cash. The State Office of Education estimates just 1,000 Utah teachers will qualify.
"I think they were trying to send a clear message that they don't value an education degree," says Romanello, wiping down dry-erase boards. "It's a nice bump. Anyone who gets it isn't going to say 'no.' But if I'm working in the private sector, earning $80,000 a year, the pitiful amount they're offering is not going to make me want to be a teacher."
Jenette Stewart will share the classroom with Romanello. She also doesn't know if she'll qualify for the raise. She graduated from Utah State University in 2005 with a degree in physical science and physics which allows her to teach several sciences. She says few science majors are willing to take a series of education classes just to earn teacher pay.
"If you're interested in money, you're not going to go into teaching," she says.
No matter. Lawmakers and the governor defied conventional wisdom, market forces, statistics about the college majors prospective teachers pick.
They still figure the sparkly lure of $4,100 will pull scientists out of research parks, hospitals and labs across the state. If already-working teachers don't qualify, that's more money left over to recruit real scientists into Utah's over-crowded, teacher-short classrooms. Legislators do not want the money to go to English or history teachers.
This big laboratory experiment drips with disdain for the people who nurture and inspire the scientists of tomorrow - those all-important, high-tech, 20-somethings state government managers are so desperate to woo lately.
Based on the snide premise that those who can't do, teach, and that only math-based sciences are valuable in the private sector, lawmakers have dissed a whole class of educators, pitted biology teachers against chemistry teachers, under the guise of patting them on the back.
Utah's science teachers are failing their students, says state Sen. Howard Stephenson, R-Draper, co-sponsor of the math and science raise.
"The biggest reason for that, in my opinion, is we're not attracting majors in math and physical sciences into teaching careers," says Stephenson, who has a bachelor's degree in psychology and aerospace studies and a Master of Public Administration from Brigham Young University.
In May, Stephenson said he hoped with successive bumps to make Utah science teacher salaries competitive with business. But with state revenues down and the inevitable belt-tightening to follow, that seems unlikely.
I have a bachelor's degree in the dubious social sciences of politics and women's studies. But even I can see this backhanded compliment to science and math teachers has turned into a slap.
The bill's other sponsor, Draper Republican Rep. Greg Hughes, still hopes to redistribute the raises among science teachers.
"This was a new approach. If we're not hitting it, I'm certainly open to making it better," says Hughes, who has an associate's degree from Utah Valley State College and attended Brigham Young University but did not complete a degree. "It's not a perfect science."
walsh@sltrib.com
