On the Decision to Teach

            When I graduated from college in 2000 with a degree to teach high school English I received a gift from a family friend who had been teaching math for many years.  I grew up baby-sitting her children in Bartlett and even continued heading back in the summers to care for her sons the week before school started so she could attend hours of PD and pour over endlessly new curriculum.  (This was the fate of math teachers in the early 90’s).  We had grown rather close from these experiences, so I was not surprised to receive an inspirational book with a carefully prepared personal message in the inside flap.  I was, however, very surprised to read her closing line.  “Just remember, even if you decide to leave the field of teaching, the world will still be better for the time you did teach.”  The message left me very confused.  Was this a secret warning from a veteran?  Should I expect to want to leave?  Was she unhappy?  I had been excited to embark on this career adventure, and her words left me nervous and contemplative.

            After thirteen years in, I find myself remembering these words and feeling kinship with this woman I have not spoken to in ages.  I have often wondered how much I would push my own children into teaching knowing what I now know about the field of education.  One of them will inevitably go into teaching.  Both their parents are teachers, two of their uncles are teachers, one surrogate aunt is a teacher…  Though my parents were not teachers, my dad was an avid baseball coach who challenged and supported his players in ways that makes him memorable to many still today.  My mom also coached, was my girl scout troop leader, and even taught some after school craft classes at my elementary school.  Her humor and way of making everyone feel like they were the most special child in the room caused many to tell me how lucky I was to call her mine.  Children of people who dedicate their lives in this way, often grow up wanting to do the same.  In fact, not too long ago, my friends and I had to break up a fight at our house as our children argued over who would be prinicipal as they played school.  We laughed that this would only happen at a gathering where all in attendance were teachers.   I wonder how many of them will choose teaching as a career.  Should they?

            Did you know that 50% of teachers leave the field after 5 years?  Imagine schools trying to seek significant improvement gains with constant turnover.  Why might they be leaving?  A quick answer could be because they could make a lot more money somewhere else.  It is strange to be only 34 years old and know that I will never make significantly more money than I do now.  I am about maxed out on the salary schedule, and there will be no bonus years for high sales.   However, that is not the reason.  It’s hard to complain about my salary when I work in a building where over 50% of the kids cannot afford lunch.  We are comfortable enough and income is steady.  I never will have to call the office the day of a school dance and ask the STUCO sponsor (read me) if she will waive the two dollar entrance fee because we have tried all week but could not gather the money.  For those who have never experienced it, that kind of poverty is real, and I cannot claim to be a pauper when faced with it on a daily basis.  Besides, how else could I really make money with my love of reading and writing.  (I do, however, sometimes dream of things Sephus could do with his crazy smart math skills besides teach 9^th graders how to do Algebra and Geometry and the salary that would result…)

            The real reason people leave is the emotional drain it takes to get through the average year, week or even day.  I can’t think of too many fields where you are required to pleasantly serve people who at times emotionally abuse you.  (No I will not walk out of this class with you!  Why don’t you go for a walk?  Looks like you could use a few walks around the block.)  Imagine planning a sales pitch and then walking in to be heckled for fifty minutes straight.  (This is BORING!!!!!!  We will never use this in REAL life!!!!! – by the way a dancing seal juggling 14 balls could be seen as boring by some junior high students)  Imagine taking time away from your family to plan a school dance only to have a sassy 9^th grade girl say, “I hope you know no one is going to that stupid dance.  Someone on facebook said it was going to be lame.”  Imagine caring so deeply about the well being of a child and having to know the terror they go home to at night and despite multiple attempts, no one at the state level being able to do anything about it.  Imagine having parents cuss you out, or in my worst parent moment ever, having a parent say she was glad your brother was in the hospital because you are bad person for making her daughter feel bad about herself just because she stole your cell phone.  Imagine trying to sleep at night as the mother of young daughters after reading a journal entry about a student losing her virginity at age thirteen.  Imagine having a kid yell that teaching isn’t a real job even after you asked your colleague to leave his conference hour to teach him math despite the fact that he was in the office awaiting officer referral sentencing.  Imagine having to read 150 of theses blogs in a row (I am impressed if you are still with this ONE J and then having to write feedback on each and every one paying attention to content, organization, usage, etc.)   Imagine never really knowing if you were accomplishing anything at all… 

            So why I am still here thirteen years later…  Why did I not run away when I was greeted by a supervising teacher during field work who said, “So you want to be a teacher huh?  Hope you’re ready for a life in hell!”  The truth is I love my job more today than I did thirteen years ago.  If you can find some way to love the quirks and challenges all children bring, you can find the joy and humor in a life of service to the young.  Educational Researcher, Marc Lemont Hill, talks about the culture of youth.  He explains that we have to realize that all adolescents have to reject adults.  It is part of youth culture to think anything the old do is totally uncool.  In the process you confirm what you value and who you are.  I also try to sympathize during emotional break downs by thinking, “Oh you poor thing trying to manage with all those hormones inside you right now.”  Adolescence is turmoil! 

            In teaching, we have to accept slow results.  I once told my students that I loved baking.  I could come home from a job where I was never really sure if I was getting through to anyone and where my plans sometimes failed, and I could follow a recipe and know that one hour later a perfect cake would be sitting in front of me to be enjoyed.  One of my supposedly at-risk students had the wisdom to turn to me and say, “We’re your cakes Mrs. Johnson.  Some of us just take a little longer to bake.”  My struggling readers often said things so intelligent that they would stop me in my tracks.  For every frustrating moment, there are equally powerful moments like this one that sustain you on the darkest of days. 

            Teaching allows me to explore so many passions.  When I was younger I wanted to be a child psychologist, lawyer or actress.  I get to do all three of those things every day.  Especially the acting…  I try to tell my students who escalate so easily that it is perfectly acceptable to smile, comply and proceed to cuss teachers out in their head.  That is acting my friends!  So is pretending like arrowheads are the most exciting thing you have ever seen in your life because that boy in third hour has finally accepted your attempts at a personal relationship and has brought in his entire collection to share with you. 

            Teaching is an act of power.  Some students complain about how much teachers like to be in control.  Of course we do, I responded.  The bossy kids on the playground who love school are the ones who end up in front of the classroom.  We get to make (suggest?) hundreds of people follow our rules every day.  We get a captive audience who must laugh at least some of our jokes on a regular basis.  We make comments in passing and don’t realize that those comments are sometimes the reason people choose the careers they do or develop the self-images that shape lives.  We must be careful with this power. 

            All of this has been on my mind this week because of a great honor I received.   I teach a class at MU preparing future middle school teachers to be ready for all that adolescents bring with them to the classroom.  One sudent of mine was chosen as part of the MU 39, an organization that honors 39 of the most outstanding seniors on campus.  As one of them, she was able to choose one mentor that inspired her to attend a banquet last night.  When asked why she chose me, she wrote, “Danielle challenged and inspired me and the whole class to take hold of the opportunity that being a teacher presents.”  I read that after an emotionally exhausting week where I missed my own children terribly, and I burst into tears.  She reminded me of something that I can sometimes forget.  Teaching is a wonderful opportunity.  If I should be lucky enough to have a child choose it, I will tell them how lucky they are to hang out with young people all day in moments that will forever impact who they are and likewise, what the world becomes. 

Imagine being able to say that….