SYRACUSE, N.Y. John Mannion wants to shift the balance of power at the statehouse in Albany. But before he could even try, he had to get approved for leave from teaching four periods of high school biology and buy three reasonably priced suits for the campaign trail.

Long before I ran for office, I would hear this phrase, Parents trust their kids teachers, Mannion said on a recent October afternoon, hurrying between campaign events in his Chevy Volt. Ive been teaching for 25 years. Ive had 2,500 students. Those students have parents. They have aunts and uncles who vote.

Nearly 1,500 current and retired educators across the country have tossed their hats into state-level races this year, flexing their political muscle after an unprecedented series of strikes in West Virginia, Kentucky, Oklahoma and Arizona. But few of them have the potential to shake up state politics as quickly as Mannion could.

A 50-year-old AP biology teacher and father of three, Mannion is competing for an open New York State Senate seat that has been in Republican hands for half a century, even though the district went decisively for Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. Republicans hold a thin one-seat advantage in the state Senate. If Mannion wins, he could help tip control of the chamber to the Democratic Party.

Like Mannion, many of those teachers-turned-candidates are political neophytes navigating a foreign world, new to the alliances, compromises and relentless phone-banking needed to reach the statehouse. Teachers may have won broad public support when they went on strike, but whether voters are willing to elect them en masse to state legislatures is a different matter.

Bob Antonacci , Mannions Republican opponent, is far more seasoned, as the elected comptroller for Onondaga County. An accountant by trade, Antonacci has been calling for lighter government regulation and a permanent cap on taxes. (There is no public polling available on the race.)

Mannion said his plunge into politics required just enough egomania and not enough decision-making skills. His quasi-political experience comes from helming his 400-member local teachers union for the last five years, negotiating contracts, handling grievances and putting out other labor-management fires by late-night text.

Im in the media a little bit, and Ive got a big mouth, so somebody asked, Will you consider running for this? he said. He waffled a bit and talked it over with his wife, Jennifer Mannion, who teaches in an elementary school in the same district. The timing felt right for an outsider campaigning on honesty, ethics and a fair economy. I had to convince the county Democratic committees that a teacher with no experience could do this, he said.

The 50th District seat that John Mannion seeks is being vacated by John DeFrancisco, a 72-year-old Republican who was first elected to it in 1992. DeFrancisco is retiring after an unsuccessful run for the governors mansion this year.

The GOPs lock on the 50th may well end with DeFranciscos departure; registration in the district is almost evenly split between Democrats and Republicans, 61,498 to 62,316. In a sign of the stakes, the two campaigns together have raked in more than $700,000 in contributions, and a teachers union political action committee has spent an additional $233,000 to boost Mannion.

Working his way through a packed itinerary this particular afternoon, Mannion delivered a speech to about 100 retired teachers an adoring crowd that would make for his easiest event of the day before rushing to a rollout of his jobs plan at Digital Hyve , an online marketing agency based in Syracuse. (I want [Syracuse] to become the Silicon Valley of the Northeast, he said as the firms employees, seated on couches in an open-office layout, typed away on their laptops.)

When he hopped back in his car, his daughter Quinn, a high school junior, texted to say she needed a ride to her soccer game. As he detoured home, it became clear how his decision to run has, as he put it, upset my familys apple cart.

When the Mannions walk out their front door, the first thing they see is an Antonacci sign directly across the street. If they turn to their right, they see another Antonacci sign in the adjacent yard. Mannion doesnt take it personally, saying these are Republicans who vote Republican next-door neighbor on the ballot notwithstanding.

As he drove down his street, the ratio of Antonacci to Mannion signs tilted decisively in his favor. He smiled.

Are you feeling better? he asked. Im feeling better.