I was never going to be a teacher. My father was a teacher. I knew at an early age what was involved in being a good teacher. Plus, as already noted, my father was a teacher… July 1, 2018 marked my retirement from 46 years as an educator: teacher, administrator, consultant. I could not have asked for a better, more fulfilling career. While I am happy to be retired, every year as the school year begins around the country, I am reminded of Dad’s commitment to create The Best Year yet. This year I am inspired to share some thoughts that might help current teachers accomplish just that.
Our culture does not, as a whole, respect or appreciate teachers as they deserve, and, frankly, that ignorance plays out in ways that too many people never stop to consider. I vividly recall a conversation with an international demographer whom I was to introduce at a major conference. When I wondered aloud what the impact on prison populations might be if all children in the United States (and their parents) had access to early childhood education, the thought had never occurred to him. To his credit, he responded with thoughtful surprise. But this man, who had studied national demographic trends for several decades, had never even considered an educational perspective.
Good teachers impact the lives of thousands of children over time. They make a difference in the ways young people learn to look at others and themselves. They teach children to think and communicate thoughtfully and critically, how to discern news that is fake from that which is real. Good teachers consistently and supportively insist that students be their best selves. They recognize and celebrate the uniqueness of each child and work extremely hard to develop strengths and interests and ameliorate weaknesses. Classrooms are microcosms of the societies around them. They should stress personal and group responsibility.
Teachers who create those positive, interactive environments benefit their charges at the moment and far into the future. I am constantly amazed when students I taught long ago share the impact that some experience had on them. Sometimes it was a specific lesson plan. Much more often, their memories center on bigger, ongoing conversations. They recall when a classmate’s father died unexpectedly and how we talked about it as a class, while their own parents didn’t know what to say. Neither did I, frankly, but when kids ask, teachers must respond. Former students refer to simulation exercises during which they were exposed to exclusion and its impact on everyone in the class. They laughingly remember learning how to diagram sentences, wondering how such drudgery (or delight, as some of them experienced it) would ever help them in life – then discovering the huge advantage they had when learning a foreign language or that their English grammar and writing skills were so much more advanced than their peers’ who had no clue about a participial phrase.
My classroom was my work, my playground, my joy, my challenge, my fulfillment. Hundreds of thousands of teachers around the country are assiduously planning for the school year ahead and the children for whom they will deeply care. The most significant way to help them is to give them our trust, support, and gratitude.
Glass Full 