Back again. I have already discussed the perceived disrespect from students and inadvertently from school administration. The last group is society as a whole.
As stated before, teachers want more time, more pay, but mostly to feel like their job has value.
During Covid, I passed many yard signs that said, “We (Heart) Teachers,” and it helped make the nondescript hours of teaching from home or hybrid a bit more palatable. Maybe, the pandemic illuminated the need for the functionality of school and teachers, but does society have any reverence for the profession, itself.
Does the mass mentality see us as an integral part in creating effective citizens, or as just a glorified babysitter?
Before I finalize my thoughts on this matter, I would be negligent if I did not report that, during my career, most of my students’ parents were receptive to suggestions, and actively engaged in their children’s education. That said, I have had my fair share of apocryphal commentary concerning my profession. “I pay your salary.” “You are out by 2 and have your summers off.” “I’ve been to school, I know what teachers do.” Now, at face value, all of this is true, but also blatantly untrue.
Teachers salaries are a major part of a town’s budget, but so are many other services. In my whole career, I only took two summers off without any supplemental work, and although I have been to a hospital, you don’t want me operating on your brain.
To illustrate this permissive, demeaning attitude, I will provide two quick anecdotes.
The first is a common one that almost all of us have encountered. Someone will ask us how much we make and then are surprised. A colleague of mine’s (Paul) brother asked him this exact question and was genuinely shocked by the response. You see, his brother was making much more money and felt sorry for Paul. The story is common, even worn out. What made this interaction different, is the way Paul interpreted his brother’s response. His brother was not enraged by the inequity in pay, he was guilty for earning what he did while working considerably less hours and with much more flexibility in his schedule.
The second is a story from my class. To promote the college fair, I wore a sweatshirt of my alma mater, Boston College. One of my students asked me if I had gone there. I said, “yes.” Her next question underscores the entire problem. “Why did you become a teacher?” The implication was that choosing to teach after earning a degree from a highly ranked university was not only underachieving but ludicrous. I actually had to pull up an article from the school’s newspaper to prove that I had attended. She was still a bit incredulous. A teachable moment for both of us.
If teachers are capable of finding more lucrative or more valued work elsewhere, then why aren’t they doing it? The answer is, that they are.
Two of Madeline Will’s major takeaways from her aforementioned article from Education Week, read in bolded letters: More than half of teachers don’t feel respected by the general public AND Nearly half of teachers say they may quit within two years (Will).
Teachers are leaving, and there are some measures being taken by society to address their needs and create retention, but another response is to reduce the requirements and training to become an educator. To me, this says that our functionality not our expertise is the predominant sentiment.
I have left the classroom, but I will always be a teacher. I will always champion my colleagues and the profession itself. We are not glorified babysitters. We are professionals and an integral part of societal infrastructure. If everyone saw us as such, we may think twice about leaving. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. THAT is what it means to me.
https://www.edweek.org/teaching-learning/disrespected-and-dissatisfied-7-takeaways-from-a-new-survey-of-teachers/2022/04. (Madeline Will’s article)
Please also seek out Thomas B. Edsall’s December 14, 2022 guest article in the New York Times.
THEY SAID IT THURSDAY
I am not an endless font of ideas, but I have been trained to respond to the words of others. With that in mind, and continuing to flesh out possibilities for this blog, I have come up with They Said It Thursday.
The premise of this segment is simple. I am going to take a quotation from someone else, and I am going to respond to it, P. style.
“Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.
(Pluck the day [for it is ripe], trusting as little as possible in tomorrow.)” – Horace (Goodreads.com)
First, I want to address the second half. I don’t like it. A bit cynical and dark for even me. Also, that part has not become a part of popular culture. What has, is Robin Williams riff on this in the compelling movie Dead Poet’s Society. If memory serves, his advice to the boys on the first day of class, is “Carpe diem. Seize the Day.” I love this movie. Robin Williams is brilliant, the cinematography is superb, and it launched the careers of several young stars including Robert Sean Leonard and Ethan Hawke. I am not sure John Keating teaches much language arts (must be off screen), but he does inspire creativity, curiosity and self-determination. Love his advice, but I would add one word to the inspirational charge. Every. “Carpe Diem. Seize every day.
Typical English teacher. Too analytical. Too picayune. Just wait.
Aside from my comment about Horace’s cynicism, I want to challenge everyone to seize every day. The notion of making every day awesome due to a fatalistic fear of not getting another is at its core flawed and counterproductive. I am not naive enough or maybe, I am realistic enough to know not every day is going to awesome, nor do they have to be, to live a good life. Everyone has days that don’t meet expectations. Everyone has days that are meh. My challenge, to you, is to, as author Sandra Cisneros proposes, “find the magic in the everyday.” My other request is not to live your life based on the name of the day.
Here’s what I mean.
Monday- Ugh. The start of the school/work week. Nothing to look forward to but five days of drudgery. I don’t know if I am going to get through the day. I want to go back to bed. You will and don’t. (Someone once told me that a majority of recalled cars are made on Mondays). Let me know if that is true.
Tuesday – slightly less Ugh. At least it’s not Monday. Closer to Friday. Closer to free. Time to keep your head down.
Wednesday – Hump Day. Life is an uphill climb, but we have made it to the peak. Half days in elementary school, and Prince spaghetti days. Things are looking up, but why do we perceive life as a constant struggle?
Thursday – Almost There. This was my most productive day in the classroom, and the overall mood was one of cautious optimism and burgeoning glee. During the pandemic and in its immediate aftermath, the highways and streets were a zoo. People rushing to take care of last minute appointments and doing last minute errands. A covert invention of the four-day workweek. Things are looking up, but don’t want to expend too much energy, because…
Friday – TGIF. You know the adage. It even spawned a restaurant chain. This is what all of the trials and travails were leading to. The school bell rings or the work horn sounds, and everyone is released on the world for 12-14 hours. This is what life is about. Carpe Diem and serve me some more half-priced happy hour apps.
Saturday – Rest and Reflection. The weekend started yesterday, and now many are paying the price or catching up on sleep. You saw how taxing the routine week is. Sleeping in and then catching a movie or something casually social. Time to take stock on the events of the week, and also to systematically forget that another Monday looms.
Sunday – Down time with family. You may not get to sleep in, especially if you have young children, but the first half of Sunday is warm and inviting. Church, yard work, dance recitals, but as the sun begins to set, the fear caused by the gloaming sets in. You have avoided doing work/homework. You have not filled out that new provider form. You panic, and then you start singing the Sunday Blues.
What’s the point?
I have already discussed how I never worked on Fridays, making that day even more winning, but I had a colleague who always planned something fun for Sunday nights, so she would not encounter the Sunday Blues. The point is that the name of the day does not matter; it is how you approach it and what you do with it that does.
Have a marvelous Monday. Ask someone to marry you on a random Tuesday. Do some work on Saturday.
If we only live for the days that have been prescribed for fun, Friday and parts of the weekend, then we are living for 2 days out of seven. 28% (You said there would be no math). That’s not a score I want to hang on the fridge. Some call it going through the motions; Thoreau called it, “a life of quiet desperation.”
I do not want anyone to live that way.
Carpe Diem. Go Seize the Day. And then the next one. And every one after that.
Love and laughter,
P.