If I could share this with the person who most needs to read it, I would. Unfortunately, that person would not take this feedback well, but I feel it needs to be said, nonetheless.
First of all, just graduating from college was a big f-ing deal for me. I am not a great student -- I have ADHD, I get bored and distracted easily, and I never learned to study. I hate reading textbooks because it takes me many re-reads to totally process what is being said, and I cannot memorize much -- other than 100s of 80s lyrics. Priorities, you know. But dammit, I did it. I graduated, and I am THIS CLOSE to graduating with a Master's degree, too. It's been a costly road, filled with tears and frustration and insecurity, but I got here. I am proud of that.
I am passionate about my work. I didn't begin that way -- some people are born knowing they want to be teachers, I was never that person, but I found my way to this career, this calling. Certainly I didn't enter into this looking to make my fortune. In fact, I didn't really know what I wanted. I was a writer, wanting to follow that path, but, truthfully, scared of the competition and the struggles I knew I would have to endure. I am a creature who seeks stability and routine. The world of being a writer, the kind of writer I wanted to be, did not have those luxuries to offer. So what do you do with half a comm degree and two more years of school? Teach, of course.
I admit it -- I was cocky about it. How hard could it be, right? The kids HAD to listen to me, and I'm smarter than them, so this would be easy. My first experience was in a 9th grade English class. A little Romeo and Juliet, a little writing... easy. Well, no, actually. I guess I forgot that I was NOT fun as a 9th grader, didn't want to be in school, and had an attitude bigger than my heavily Aqua-netted bangs. By the time I had my first classroom full of elementary kids, I was smart enough to be terrified, and terrified enough to forget EVERYTHING I'd supposedly learned.
Fifteen years later, the job is not easy. I have found a stride, methodology, a style that fits me, but it is NOT easy. Not by any stretch. The expectations of parents, of the government, of administration, have all changed and increased every year, but our resources have not. They have, in fact, dwindled. They are not meeting the needs of every kid. There are far too many choices that make curriculum companies a WHOLE LOT of money, and yet offer solutions only for a set few. And before everyone assumes I am talking about money, I will say right now that money doesn't solve all problems. It can help, but at the end of the day, an ineffective teacher with the best curriculum materials money can buy is still ineffective. What makes me a good teacher, what makes me worth so much more than what I get (not just money!), is the fact that all I need is a willing learner to be a good teacher. My colleagues are the same. Getting 20-30 kids to listen and do the same thing at the same time is no easy task, but add to it that we are judged based on how they test on an arbitrary standardized test, and you are talking about a situation where my livelihood and the livelihoods of my colleagues are pretty much out of our own hands.
OK -- did you get all that? 'Cause now I am moving to my real point! ;)
So this week is TEACHER appreciation week. My administrator, who was once a teacher, has made a point of referring to it as STAFF appreciation week. Honestly, it really bothers me. First, on the most basic level, it pisses me off to be lumped in with "staff," when I have worked hard to get to where I am. I paid my tuition, I did my time in undergrad, I worked my ass off to get a 4.0 in my Master's classes, and yet I am simply part of the "staff," including secretaries, custodians, and cafeteria folks. Now please do not misunderstand. My mother was a secretary for many years. She supported us on her very tiny salary, and she brought me up to be a woman with strong beliefs, someone who values education a great deal. I do not seek to demean her hard work, nor the work of others. But, hey... there is a nationally recognized "Boss Day." There is a nationally recognized "Secretaries Day." In my school district we have a classified employees day... para-pro week... everyone gets their recognition. Except teachers. We have to share our week with the rest of the STAFF. But what if all of the teachers disappeared from our schools? Would we need the rest of the STAFF anymore? Would clean buildings or freshly prepared lunches make a difference were it not for the teachers? As I said above, give me a willing learner and I can teach! The rest is nice, but not necessary.
I have a colleague who shares my frustration, and as I told her today, I feel like this seemingly simple word change from TEACHER to STAFF illustrates how the American society treats educators. We are professionals, not unlike doctors, lawyers, nurses, and all of the others who go through formal training. We go through testing, we are licensed, and no, not just anyone can be a teacher. Just ask the 1/3 of all new teachers who quit within the first 5 years. And this is how we treat ourselves! Our own people, the folks who were just in the trenches themselves, reduce our one week of TEACHER appreciation to STAFF appreciation. If this is what we model to society, then why should they do any more themselves? Why should they see us as any different then those people who answer the phones and make lunches?
All of this is to simply say that it does take a village. Truly. And that every person who works in a school, in education in general, is important. However, please please please take the time to REALLY thank teachers. That doesn't mean buying stuff or formal presentations... that means saying thank you, being friendly, trusting their judgement, and being respectful of the hard work and dedication it takes to be a teacher. I always joke that it takes a very special breed of person to be a Kinder teacher, but the truth is, it takes a special breed of person to be a TEACHER. Period. Please respect that, and remember that becoming a teacher is a choice, not a consolation prize.
