Another Post About Teachers

It seems that over the summer, public vitriol towards teachers is at an all-time high.  Personally I feel this is fueled by a combination of our media and internet trolls.  One has to wonder why they hate education so much, after all you don’t see the public picking on any other profession as much, with the exception of politicians.  (But at least politicians can hold rallies and tons of people come out to support them!)  And I know that part of me shouldn’t waste time on trying to figure this out.  I should have a thicker skin, or at the very least take the advice I dole out to my students; “Don’t worry about what other people are saying!” But the truth of the matter is that it’s hard to do that.  So instead of getting angry I thought of reasons why people would hate teachers so much.

            1. They were taught by a real life Dolores Umbridge.

Even J.K. Rowling herself has said that this character was based on someone she knew.  Isn’t it feasible that there are Dolores Umbridges everywhere using their position in the classroom as one to inflict their ideology?  Could everyone out there have horrific school memories and hate their former teachers?  Just as Harry Potter probably grew up to hate kittens, (who wouldn't after an Umbridge punishment!  And if that means nothing to you, do yourself a favor and go read the book!) people who have bad experiences in school would most likely scoff at teachers.  So I really shouldn't be mad at these people, they just need a hug.

          2. They don’t understand that students are not a product.

We can’t just pack up students and ship them to college!

This actually makes a little sense.  People in our society are so product driven, so results driven, that when teachers say that they are working when there aren’t students in front of them, some people don’t believe it!  Yes it is true…over the summer I have a lot of time off.  (Time to catch up on being a normal person who doesn’t fall asleep by 4pm on a Friday!)  And time to plan.  Sure there are Professional Developments over the summer, but I also spend the summer reading articles about differentiation or blended learning, getting Google certified, reading the novels I will require my students to read, not to mention reading what is on the summer reading list, creating a syllabus, researching new ways to engage students, and the purchasing, planning, and designing.  A welcoming classroom isn’t granted by a fairy godmother, I spend days upon days getting my room ready.  I haul back every bin that is stored in my garage, porch, and living room, and set up my room.  A room I try to make inviting.  I scour the back to school sales for supplies, I hog the laminator at Lakeshore as if it is my job.  So although we only have students in front of me for 180 days, believe me we are still working.

3.      Jealousy.

Ah yes.  If they hate you that much, jealousy must be the answer!  And truly what is there not to be jealous of; we really have the greatest job on Earth.  We get to be in the room where it happens (sorry Aaron Burr!); that tiny spark of magic when a student realizes they can do something. Those days when students enter your room full of confidence because they know that they can figure out an equation, or analyze Shakespeare.  We get to be there when they goof off and side track you because let’s face it, sometimes they are just so darn funny.  We’re at their triumphs on the field, their not so great days in the halls, we advise them, we educate them, we love them as if they’re our own.  And they are our own; in our four walls where we head out on an educational journey from September to June.  We cry at their graduations, we cheer them on, were their teachers.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

It has nothing to do with the hours; quite frankly my hours are long.  I’m at school by seven a.m. most days (sometimes earlier) and I rarely am home before five.  Yes, there is summer vacation, and I’m not going to lie, it’s pretty great.  During the school year my social life resembles one of a hermit, so it’s nice to have time for a date night, or spend some time with friends.  And I get to try out new things because I work two jobs over the summer to compensate for not having my regular pay check.  It’s about the kids.  And they’re not products, they are really and truly the future.  Having a small part of that is the most gratifying feeling in the world.  I can’t imagine doing anything else.  (And I’ve tried.  I had various jobs before becoming a teacher!)  So next time you read an internet troll calling teachers lazy, or if you come across inflammatory clickbait articles online, please think of where the author of the article/comments are coming from.  They may have had an awful school experience, maybe they don’t understand education, or they’re jealous that they don't have the honor of working with students every day.   If you see them, give them a hug, because chances are a teacher taught you that compassion is always the route over rhetoric.  

Why Does ProJo Villify Teachers?

The front page of the Providence Journal ran an awful headline about teachers in Rhode Island.  Once again painting us with one swoop while having no regard for the hard work we do each and every day.  I instantly wrote a letter to the editor- a much shorter version of what is below.  I know many teachers who were outraged at the article, yet still two weeks later-not one letter has been printed showing our side of things.  Although I don't have proof that other people wrote to support teachers, I am fairly positive someone did.  They did post an op ed that once again said teachers are what is wrong with the public school system.

So here is my (long form) version of the letter that Projo obviously doesn't want to publish as it turns the mirror on something that we don't discuss enough...

I’m sure I am one of many writing in response to your front page article entitled “Absent teachers; RI worst in region.”  Like many who have undoubtedly written, I am a teacher.  It is a job I love.  I never feel the approaching dread of a Monday, because it means I can see my students again, and hear about their weekends.  I never complain about the days I am at school until very late (7pm some days) because no matter what the work has to get done, after all I have 80 students counting on me.  I never complain about the pay, because I’m not there for the income, it’s the outcome.  I’m writing to ask you to raise your standards as a paper.  Frequently, the ProJo is seen as bashing teachers, and never showing the positive.  And it’s out there, just ask WJAR who frequently shines a well-deserved spotlight on teachers, or the Providence Teachers Union who through their campaign of #PTUPositivity, their members hear of all the great things happening in our Providence schools.  Yet, the ProJo feels free to write inflammatory headlines in the clickbait fashion we see littered throughout our social media feeds.  We expect more of a newspaper.

You wouldn’t write this headline about firefighters.  Why not?  They save lives.

You wouldn’t write this headline about the police.  Why not?  They save lives.

You wouldn’t write this headline about nurses.  Why not?  They save lives.

You wouldn’t write this headline about doctors.  Why not?  They save lives.

You shouldn’t write this headline about teachers.  Why?  They too save lives.

Now I am sure you are shaking your head thinking that this is yet another teacher employing hyperbole to get her point across.  In response I would ask you to visit my classroom those last few days of school.  Finals are over, at that point if you’re failing there is nothing you can do to bring that grade up.  Many students don’t show up.  Last month, I witnessed many students show up to school these last two days.  They would show up to an un-air conditioned, stuffy building.  School lunch was reduced to sandwiches, and not even movies could be shown as we all handed in our technology.  So why show up?  Because teachers save lives.  For some students, the only words of encouragement they receive is Monday-Friday in their teacher’s classrooms.  We continually tell our students that they’re good enough, and they’re worth it.  And before the naysayers remark that I only feel this way because I am fortunate enough to work in the city, let me tell you how teachers saved my life.

On paper, I was charmed.  Skinny white girl in the Scituate school system, both parents still married, extended family that I would see weekly.  Access to technology.  (And this was in the nineties!)  It doesn’t get much more privileged than that.  However I grew up with one parent telling me that education was important, and the other telling me to rely on my looks.  One parent who would beam with pride if I dared to say I liked math, one asking me what was wrong with me.  One who would pull me out of school based on my childish whims, one parent who worked night so this was done without his knowledge.  Sadly, as with many girls, the words of my mother rang true for me; I couldn’t excel at math, college wasn’t a priority.  In my mind I wasn’t good at anything, and I certainly wasn’t smart enough. 

Miss Amanda Browne who first told me that not only could I write, but that I should.  Sure, it was 5^th grade and my stories were probably horrible, but she told me that it could be done.  Fast forward to 10^th grade and Mrs. Carol Mumford changed my life.  Not only did she say that I could write, that I had talents to offer the world, but she taught me that love, compassion, and free thought belonged in the classroom.  I bring Mrs. Mumford’s lessons with me every day I open my classroom door and greet my students.

I want you to think about your own schooling.  Surely there was a teacher that saved you.  That told you that yes you are worth it, that you could make your mark on the world.  I ask that you stop your clickbait worthy articles, not for me but for the teachers that saved my life.  Not for the thousands of hardworking teachers in our beautiful state, but for the teachers that saved you.  The teachers that told you that you were worth it.  Live up to their standards, because you’re worth it.