Questionable Appreciation

As we wrap up another “Teacher Appreciation Week,” I’m conflicted about the future of teaching and the teaching profession….

Not too long ago I worked a softball clinic for girls in 3^rd to 7^th grades. We had some of our Webster players helping us, serving as demonstrators and wranglers. One of the girls showed exceptional aptitude for instruction and teaching. She took initiative (even though she was one of the youngest of our players there), adapted drills on the fly to keep girls involved at their skill level, made a personal connection with the young players, etc.

It will come as no surprise to anyone who has read much of my blog that I believe that the best teachers are born, not made. Maybe a better expression would be that great teachers are born, then made, through training, practice, and self-examination. This young woman is a natural.

But I’m not sure, even as someone who feels good about his teaching career and proud of  the many former students who followed in it, that I’d urge anyone to choose that path any more. I’m discouraged at the direction I think education is taking, reducing the opportunities for artistry, increasing regimentation and standardization, creating technocrats and interchangeable parts. And don’t even get me started on the games being played with online degrees and programs to earn salary bumps, or the ever-increasing pervasiveness of online education.

It’s not that teaching has become harder. Maybe it has, but it was always a lot of work, especially for those who care about the students entrusted to them. It’s not that there is less respect for teachers. Perhaps there is, but we certainly had to deal with those who both looked down upon us and expected us to perform miracles. It’s not that teachers are underpaid. You can’t overpay a good teacher, nor underpay a bad one, although the former is seldom an issue. Even the fiercest critics of (public school) teachers are complimentary of many individuals. They mostly just object to teachers’ organizations (unions, a word I’ve been comfortably using for 40+ years) that help those professionals stand up for themselves and their students.

That resentment is not new, either. I remember the stunned look of a school board member back in 1973 (maybe 1974) when she accusingly declaimed, “You just want more power for teachers” when I answered, “Yes, we do.” After a brief silence, she stammered, “You know, you’ve told the truth two or three times tonight.” How dare teachers want to be in charge of their own profession. Who do they think they are?

I would certainly be proud of any young woman or man who wanted to join the profession, certainly prouder than my parents were of my choice. And maybe my confliction is the result of seeing the past as better than it really was, another of the joys of aging. Maybe my parents didn’t see a teaching career as any kind of accomplishment because it was, even then, a second-tier profession. I spent a lot of time and energy working to push it into the first tier, and I always felt the equal in terms of skill and importance to any doctor or lawyer, even if society seldom reciprocated that feeling. (I thought the same of all the underrated and underappreciated Registered Nurses who share this week of appreciation, incidentally and, perhaps, ironically. Apparently neither profession is worthy of a week in the spotlight alone.)

For all that, however, I don’t know that I would ever encourage someone to become a teacher, as crucial as I think the profession and its practitioners are. I hate feeling this way. I certainly didn’t always feel this way. Still, I wouldn’t judge any parents who discouraged their children from making that choice. To be fair, when I mentioned this misgiving in the complimentary e-mail I sent the parents of the above-referenced daughter, they concurred with my assessment of her abilities and were excited about the possibility of her being a teacher. So I am willing to concede that this week just has me taking a darker view than perhaps I should and my developing codger hood simply represents the passage of time.

So let me end on a more positive note and thank my colleagues, past, present, and future, and tell those many former-students who are now in, or planning to join, the profession: “Thank you. I’m proud of you and appreciate what you’re doing, what you’re giving to society. Keep the faith and keep up the good (hard) work.”