I’m sitting here thinking that
I have absolutely nothing to write about today. So we’ll see what actually
comes of this. I could write about love and marriage but I think I covered that
last week. There’s always the grace versus law topic, but that
doesn’t quite seem right either. Maybe it’s time to write about something that
is near and dear to my heart – teaching.
I was a teacher for eight and a half years. One and a half years were
spent substitute teaching which, in and of itself, could be a novel. Five years
were spent teaching 3rd grade (first at a catholic school, then at a
public school). Lastly, I became a teacher in a multi-grade setting.
To say that teaching is near and dear to my heart doesn’t adequately
describe how much those years meant to me. I was single for six and a half of
those years and, for all intents and purposes, those kids were my kids. The
last two years I taught I was no longer Miss Kluck, I was Mrs. Meyer. While my
husband and I had no kids, my heart was a bit more divided. I was still very
dedicated to my career, but I was also a wife and that needed to be a priority, too.
Let me take a moment to say this to all my friends who are teachers, I
have never had to raise kids as a full-time teacher and to those of you who do,
I have the utmost respect for you. Not only do you raise your own children but,
year after year, you nurture and care for others’ kids as well – dozens and
dozens who pass through your classroom doors every fall.
Many memories from my teaching years are positive and fill me with a
sense of accomplishment. But there are other memories that aren’t quite as
happy; memories that have kept me from returning to a profession that I was
once so passionate about. It may seem to you like a sob story, but I hope that
in sharing my experiences those of you who send your kids to school every day
have a bit more respect and understanding for just how difficult a teacher’s
job is.
In my early years as a teacher, I had this zest and enthusiasm for my
job. I considered it a calling more than a career. Teaching was one of the most
important things I did in my life and I took that calling very seriously. So
what happened you might ask? If I was so dedicated, so devoted all those years
why did I make the decision not to return.
Two words are what it really boils down to - parents and administrators. Yup, you read
it correctly - people. It wasn’t the
long hours, the late nights, or the paltry salary that drove me away- it was
the people. Specifically, the ones who should have had my back. For that matter
the ones who should have every teacher’s back.
I taught for several years under an administration that was less than
supportive. In fact, the lack of respect for teachers in this building was
appalling. One of the administrators felt that students who came to her office just
needed unconditional love. To her this meant that the kids should be able to
fool around on the computer, eat candy, and play games with her. Newsflash – if kids aren’t punished when they
go to the administrator’s office, what reason do they have to behave in the
classroom? In fact, wouldn’t some want to take advantage of the situation and
act out in the hopes that they would be sent to the office? After
all, why spend time in a classroom learning math facts when you know there’s a
bag of licorice waiting for you when you go to the office. For a long time, I
thought it was my fault that certain students didn’t behave for me, but when I
found out what their “punishment” was, I had a lightbulb moment.
The second category of people I struggled with was parents. Specifically,
parents who wanted to swoop in and save their child from any and all types of
consequences. While I was still teaching, we had a name for those people –
helicopter parents; the ones who were there to defend their child rather than
respect the authority of their child’s teacher. One example makes my blood boil
even to this day.
I had sent a worksheet home with a student because it was messy and
needed to be redone. Imagine my surprise when this paper came back the next day
with a note written on it. Right next to the sentence, “Needs to be redone,”
the father wrote another note, “I disagree”.
Hmmm, you’re really going to quarrel with me in front of your child. Why
does your child need to behave in the classroom if they know that Mom or Dad
are going to be there to bail them out should any trouble arise?
I have to apologize because I broke my promise. I did get on a soapbox
and share my sob story. But the real reason I wrote this entry was to give some
small examples of how difficult a job teaching is. In spite of the challenges
they face, most teachers will tell you this. To them teaching isn’t about the
administrators, nor is it about the parents. It’s about the kids. They're the
reason teachers come back year after year.
You see, whether or not you have their back, most teachers have yours.
They strive to achieve the same goal you have for your child - teaching them to be productive, caring, and
responsible citizens. Next time you have an issue with your child’s teacher go
to them, talk to them, figure out how you can work together to do what’s truly best
for your child. And, remembering the difficult job they have, show them some
appreciation. Send flowers or a simple thank you card. Most importantly, give
your child’s teacher the gift of respect. They work hard day in and day out cramming
twelve months of work into nine. Your gift of respect will go a long way. Oh, and throw in a box of chocolates. Those
will go a long way, too.
