Dear Apple

Dear Apple,

Anyone who knows me in real life knows I'm a huge fan of your brand. I have almost all of your products, from my desktop to my laptop to my smartphone . . . I'm a loyal customer. I discovered you as a primary student growing up in Palo Alto, California and took you with me to college in the same town. You stayed with me at home even when my work as a management consultant forced me to learn keyboard shortcuts on a Dell. When I headed back to grad school, I was accompanied by a brand-new Macbook and now, as I begin a new career as a classroom teacher, I couldn't wait to find ways to bring your products into the classroom with me.

As a student teaching intern, I would bring my Macbook into the classroom and was shocked by the attention my students paid to it. They wanted to play with it, stare at it, be the one to click next on the presentation. I knew I loved my Macbook - I did not realize the excitement it would bring out in my students. So when I got a full time job for the fall, I knew that the iPad would be a great way to bring engagement and excitement into the classroom. I wanted to find ways to teach with the iPad. My goal was to buy one with my own money, find ways to use it meaningfully in the classroom, and then apply for grants to cover a class set in future years. With this exciting vision, I headed to the Apple Store.

When I got the Apple Store, the first thing I noticed was a giant Teach For America display in the front window. "Donate your iPad and we will refurbish it for use in a high-needs classroom!" I got excited: I'm a classroom teacher in a high-needs classroom, and I just finished my Masters in Education - if Apple is willing to donate iPads to TFA teachers, surely they will have some sort of program for the rest of us. When I asked about the program, however, I was informed that not only was I not eligible for the refurb program, but I also was not eligible for any sort of discount on the iPad at all. Not as a grad student, not as a classroom teacher, not as a high-needs classroom teacher. Just if I had been TFA.

Apple, I'm angry. I appreciate your support of education and I think it is a wise branding move for you to encourage schools to use your products through philanthropy. But someone needs to explain to me: Why TFA? Why not high-needs classroom teachers, regardless of how they got there? Why not let us equally apply for and be eligible for refurbished iPads based on availability?

Do you doubt my credentials? I went to the same undergrad university as many TFA teachers. In fact, I have my masters too. Because I'm not TFA do you doubt my passion for my students? Or my integrity when I say I plan to use the iPad for the classroom? I will write you essays, I will take pictures and document my instruction. My rigorous graduate program required that of me as well.

Please don't misunderstand me. This is not about free stuff. I came to the store prepared to spend my own money on a classroom iPad. I know that I am not the only teacher willing to spend my own money on making my classroom better. This is about your running an philanthropic campaign that - like so many others- elevates a certain education agenda above others. Teach For America, whether you support it or not, is political. And choosing to limit your philanthropic support to TFA-er's instead of all high-needs teachers sends a message that TFA is more worthy or valuable than other routes to teaching.

Public school teachers need support. Not some of us. All of us. I realize that this was likely a philanthropic campaign born of relationships and TFA's excellent Public Relations department, not necessarily intended as an educational agenda. I also realize that maybe what I should do with my frustration is boycott your products. But that's not what I want. I want to use your amazing products in my home and in my classroom. All I ask is that you put the same thoughtful design into your philanthropic programs as you do your innovative products.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Beck