Today I cried.
At 8 am. In my classroom. For so many reasons. And I’m not a cryer. There’s a young teacher that I sort of mentor. She’s like my little sister, my mentee, my friend- all wrapped into one witty, bright, and talented package. Our paths have woven and intersected in so many ways it’s hard to nail down what makes this person special to me. But I’ll say this: if I could hand-pick a teacher for my children. It would be her. She’s the type of role model I want for my daughter; smart, kind, strong, and driven. We first met when she was a student in my class. It was my first teaching job, middle school English. Even then, I knew she was special, smiling her smile, and reminding me which bells I actually needed to pay attention to (middle school bell schedules can be confusing, right?). Over the years our paths crossed time and again, until one day she found herself landing her own teaching position, middle school English, in the same place where she helped me master the bell schedule years before. Over the past few years I’ve had the pleasure of watching her grow. I’ve watched her inspire writers and coach players. I’ve witnessed her strength after losing everything in a fire, and had the honor of being a guest as she walked down the aisle. We’ve been talking a lot lately, she and I. About how the job has changed. How teaching now allows us to do less and less of what we love, and how hard it is to reach a child who is a thousand worlds (or at least a thousand tabs) away. And I watched her love of teaching, her fire, slowly burn out. So when she came to me for honesty. I had to be honest. She’s young, newly married, and has her whole life in front of her. She is eager to follow her heart, to explore what she loves. I KNOW she is a great teacher. But the job is different now. I know she is a wonderful role model who believes in kids and helps them believe in themselves. But the job is different now. She’s got so much to give. But the job is different now. Let’s be honest, shall we? When you hear teachers talk about how “things have changed” you often hear the alphabet soup of acronyms we are up against: PARCC, SGO, McRel, and the list goes on. Is it exhausting? Yes. Is it taking up time that we should be using for creating meaningful lessons? Heck yes! But that’s not all that’s changed. Kids have changed. We have changed them. We are teaching a generation of students who are wired differently. We compete for their attention with the 1,000,000,000 tabs on their devices. It is almost impossible for them to focus on one task fully, for any meaningful amount of time, before they instinctively switch to another tab (weird how human instincts evolve, right?). We expect them to problem solve, but in their world, Google has always had the answer. So we create artificial problem-solving situations (looking at you, Makerspace). Since when do kids need designated time to build and create, when that’s what they are naturally inclined (instinctively!) to do. So let’s start having an honest conversation about what’s really changing. And let’s also be honest about this: not all progress is good. Not if you don’t have balance. So back to our talks. Here’s the crux of it: You shouldn’t have a job where you wish away the days. If that is what’s happening, something has to change. You should have a job that excites you when you wake up in the morning. If that’s not happening, something has to change. (Now clearly for many of us “older” teachers, we may feel that way now, but we didn’t in the beginning. If you’re young and you feel that way now, that’s another story.) You can’t be afraid to take a risk. You can’t be afraid to fail. Sometimes failure leads you to the most amazing places you never dreamed you be. See what’s out there. Wake up in the morning and say Yes! I get to do this today! And today, she resigned. And I cried. Because I’ll miss her. Because I feel the school will be far less bright without her. Because her leaving represents so much of what’s wrong in education. Because she is a great teacher. Because she’s brave. Because I’m proud of her. And because, selfishly, something about her decision made me feel like a teacher again.
4 Comments
5/18/2017 07:10:01 am
Suzanne, powerful post here. I'm sad with you for all of the really good teachers I see leave the profession because they're ready for something more... something that will allow them to escape the bureaucracy and politics that rob teachers and students of valuable learning time. Something that will allow them to freely apply their talents and creativity.
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5/21/2017 11:25:34 am
Your post today touched something deep inside. I had a conversation the other day with a junior in my high school. I asked him about his plans after school and he said he thought he would enjoy being a principal. To my reply of "Really", he immediately said but my parents said no way. Our conversation took what has become the usual course - all the reasons why people should choose a profession other than teaching. I left that conversation heart-broken. He is an amazing young man and would be an excellent role model for any student in his class. As I end my 23rd year in the same district, I can't help but wonder how we arrived where we are and how can we turn things around. Thank you for such an honest post!
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Jancey Clark
5/22/2017 12:49:38 am
This is a very thought-provoking post - I'm sure so many teachers can relate. And I think we need to be more open and honest about how hard it is to be a teacher now and to actually focus on what we love ...teaching students and doing what is best for them! We have to take it back, somehow, and make time for what matters! Thank you for sharing this.
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Yvonne Clark
6/8/2017 12:35:00 pm
Great read. Very touching and honest.
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AuthorSuzanne Crowley: middle school English teacher, middle child, mid-career, mid-life. And in the middle of it all, mommy. Archives
July 2017
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