It's your first year teaching your first special education class. A parent Googles your name and finds some—well—unflattering pictures of you online from a trip to Cancun.

You get canned, but at least you have the memories of Cancun to keep you warm at night when they turn off your heat because you can't pay your bills.

You're entering your third year as a special education teacher. You've finally gotten the hang of making effective IEPs for each of your students, but no one is really interested in your "suggested policy change" ideas when you bring them up at board meetings. You just follow the protocol and go home.

You've been placed in one of the biggest high schools in the city. You're really hoping to make an impact, but a lot of the special education students have been pushed around by the system so much that they're frustrated and have given up. No one believes in them and no one believes in you. You're confident, but you'll have to really put the work in to get your students motivated.

You teach at one of the most innovative schools specializing in gifted students with autism. After sitting on several boards you are finally able to make some change in educational policy. People listen to you now—and so do your students.

You are the department head of the special education teachers at the high school of your choice, and you help to oversee the progress of all of the students. People look to you for guidance, and you've just petitioned and have been granted the right to review the old policies that you have been annoyed with for your entire career.