Supporting the union is as important for teachers now as it was more than 75 years ago. Throughout the economic struggles of the 1930s to the political turmoil of the 1950s and beyond, Helen Weinstein's career reminds us of the personal and professional sacrifices some teachers have made to support what is best for education.

This is her story, told by her grandniece, Brandy Marshall of Glenmont. Marshall is a former member of the Guilderland Teachers Association.

It was 1932, the height of the Great Depression. School officials at PS 225 in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, decided to put  50 students in a single first-grade class.

(Today, the average first-grade class at PS 225 is 18.3.)

Tammany Hall's "Uncle John" McCooey insisted the city had no money to build an addition to accommodate the growing student population. Helen Weinstein, in her first teaching job, launched a protest anyway.

With her colleague Ralph Fagin and the support of the principal, Weinstein organized the parents. She borrowed a mimeograph machine, distributed leaflets and took part in parades. Ultimately, the Board of Education was forced to build a wing onto the school. Mayor LaGuardia received the credit and Weinstein and Fagin were subsequently transferred by Superintendent William O'Shea "for the good of the service," according to a 1932 article in The Nation.

Education and civic organizations from the PTA and local Chamber of commerce to the Teacher's Union and ACLU protested the transfers, but to no avail.

"They should not have gone parading through the street and arousing the ire of the people against their employers ... They should not help to instigate public uprising," O'Shea told a group of parents, according to minutes taken of the meeting.

In fact, O'Shea believed he had done the teachers a favor by transferring them instead of firing them.

Weinstein was sent to PS 16 in Staten Island. Her commute was a two-hour ordeal.

From 1932-37, Weinstein worked in several New York City schools, but the next school to test her principles was PS 23 in Brooklyn.

Before she even began her job there, Principal Jesse Seehof called her in for a meeting. After initial pleasantries, he asked:

"Are you in favor of unions?"

"Of course," she answered.

Seehof made it clear he would not tolerate union business in "his" school, according to letters written sometime later by both Weinstein and Seehof to the Board of Superintendents.

Seehof assigned Weinstein to a classroom that did not have enough seats and then claimed her students were unruly.

When Weinstein asked to move her class to the vacant adjacent room that had enough seats, Seehof considered her uncooperative.

 Seehof faulted Weinstein, who earned about $7 per day, for failing to make personal donations to every school fundraiser. Seehof threatened to give unsatisfactory ratings to those teachers who did not participate in the "voluntary" fundraisers.

Teachers were required to conduct daily inspections of students to make sure the children complied with the school's cleanliness regulations. The inspections included small details, such as whether shoes were polished. Weinstein did not focus much on that part of the inspection.

As she later explained to the Board of Superintendents, "I could not find it in my heart to be too exacting on the question of highly polished shoes. I know from my contact with these children that there are many who cannot afford the simple luxury of shoe polish."

In March 1938, Seehof wrote a letter to Assistant Superintendent Oswald Schlockow, informing him of his intent to give Weinstein an unsatisfactory rating because of a lack of detail in her February inspection report. The poor rating would likely prevent her from getting her permanent teaching certification

In June, Seehof had sent the Board of Superintendents a 20-page letter justifying his assessment of Weinstein. Among his reasons was her "use of voice:"

"There are teachers in this school who no longer use the same streetcar line as does Miss Weinstein because they are ashamed at the tone of voice used by this agitator … Miss Weinstein's strident voice is known to the citizens who frequent the same restaurant; some of then have changed their restaurant because of it."

He wrote that her lack of self-control is the same as what he had witnessed in "too many union fanatics."

"It is very seldom that a teacher's speech is able to annoy me, but when, on rare occasions, I force myself to discuss an official matter with Miss Weinstein, I find the rush of blood to my head beyond my control and I am rarely able to perform other school tasks efficiently for the rest of the day."

The Teacher's Union, at the time an affiliate of the American Federation of Teachers, filed dozens of grievances against Seehof's administration, and in support of Weinstein.

At a June 21, 1938, hearing, an unusual decision was made. The Board did not support several of the weaknesses cited, including "use of voice." However, it did uphold Weinstein's unsatisfactory rating for the term. More importantly, Assistant Superintendent Schlockow granted her permanent certification and recommended a transfer to another school.

At PS 36 in Brooklyn (1938-44) and later PS 189 in Manhattan (1944-53), Weinstein earned tremendous professional success.

Long before it was fashionable in education, her students were involved in cooperative learning and elaborate interdisciplinary projects. They created a Mexican fiesta, held an assembly about China, organized international pen pals and wrote an original play about the life of George Washington Carver.

While Weinstein's career was relatively smooth during those years, America had become increasingly preoccupied with the worldwide spread of Communism.

In 1949, the New York State Legislature passed the Feinberg Law, which essentially barred members of "subversive groups" from teaching. Every school board in the state had to investigate its teachers annually and report the results to the Board of Regents.

In New York City, that mission was embraced by Superintendent William Jansen. By May 1950, he had suspended eight teachers for refusing to tell him whether they were Communists.

In 1953, Weinstein volunteered to transfer to PS 112, a school that was opening in the Bronx.

She got along well with students, parents, colleagues and administrators, and volunteered to create and organize the school's library, among other projects.

By this time Jansen had become a national figure, even appearing on the cover of Time magazine on Oct. 19, 1953.

Assistant Superintendent Joseph Loretan required the elementary and junior high schools in his districts to create and present a patriotic program for the public. At PS 112, Weinstein volunteered to take on that challenge.

She wrote, produced and directed a patriotic musical extravaganza: "This is Our Country." It covered American history from Columbus' journey to America through the Eisenhower era and involved every grade, K-6, in a song, dance or skit praising America's greatness.

 During the planning of the production, Weinstein was summoned to Jansen's office. He wanted her to name one Communist on the faculty.

Weinstein had no intention of lying or ruining a colleague's career in order to save her own. She submitted her letter of resignation instead.

"This is Our Country" was performed on June 2, 1955. At its completion, the district superintendent stood up to praise the school's principal for the fine work. Compliments were echoed in letters from all over the community.

Not long after the school year ended, Weinstein realized that districts throughout the state had her name on a list. Even Staten Island was out of the question. After more than 20 years of teaching in New York City - in four different boroughs - Weinstein had been blacklisted from teaching in New York state.

A year later, Weinstein landed a job at Greens Farms School in the prestigious Westport, Conn., school system.

It was an unlikely spot for Weinstein. The district had no union, and she would be one of the first Jewish teachers on staff.

Weinstein's students accomplished amazing projects. They performed in original plays about Abraham Lincoln, such as "Lonesome Train" and "When Lincoln Learns to Read." They created an educational television show as part of a State Department of Education experiment.

When Weinstein was ready to retire in 1967, the problem of her New York exit became more apparent. Although she had taught and contributed to her New York pension for more than 20 years, only $10,000 of the money was allowed by the state to be transferred to the Connecticut pension system. After 35 years of teaching, she received a $200 per month pension. But there was a catch.

By law, public school teachers had been prohibited from taking part in Social Security, and no deductions were ever taken from the payroll. Although a 1954 revision made Social Security available to teachers with pension plans, the final decision was left to each state. Connecticut opted not to permit pensioned public employees from becoming part of the Social Security system. Today it is one of 14 states that does not participate.

Anticipating her future needs, Weinstein chose to pay into Social Security. That cost more than $200 per month. So, after years of dedicated teaching, Weinstein had a deficit monthly income for the first several years of her retirement.

Had she given Superintendent Jansen the name of just one "Communist" colleague in 1955, her New York pension would have been comfortable.

Weinstein, however, chose to stand behind her principles, and paid for it.

Helen Weinstein - my Great-aunt Helen - has an ineradicable spirit. She is 101 years old and living in Florida, where she maintains a modest apartment, cooks for herself and takes daily walks and swims.

President Obama, in his inauguration speech, spoke of "risk-takers … some celebrated, but more often men and women obscure in their labor" who sacrificed individual ambitions "so that we might live a better life."

 As teachers, we are engrossed in the dynamics of our classroom and the politics of education. We may forget the teachers long before us who paved the way for the freedom and benefits we have today.

Now, it's their turn to be celebrated.