Recently, I was visited by a former student who is
graduating from UCF with a degree in Elementary Education. I’m extremely proud of her and I’m excited
for her future. I wanted to give her
some advice for the career, and I’m not one of those “Don’t Do It” people. I sincerely believe we need more people to
choose teaching as their primary career.
But they need to know something before making that decision, and this is
what I told my student:
You. Don’t. Matter.
As long as you understand that you do not matter to your
employer, you have a chance at making it.
Upward mobility, effective mentorship, relevant training to perfect your
craft, and investment in your long-term service as a teacher simply do not
exist. You are entering an industry that
does not care about you, an industry that continues to de-value you, an
industry that blames you for what is labeled as its failure.
The interview process may not feel this way. You may be questioned by smiling faces with
great personalities that seem to show a dedication to students, but understand
that the administrators making your hiring decision will not be at your school
very long. The principal that hired me over
the summer was at a different school to start the year. The administrative team that hired me was
completely turned over by my 3rd year: the principal, four assistant
principals, and three administrative deans.
In my 9 years at the same school I have never seen the same team for
three years. Every freshman that started
at my school has graduated with a completely different administration. This will be true for every freshman. The decision-makers at the school that hires
you, as nice as they may be and excited as they are to have you, simply will
not be there long.
Once you are hired, you will notice you are required or
expected to perform many tasks that generate reports. You will go through training that is called
“Professional Development” but it will have nothing to do with developing your profession. You will learn software, data entry, report
generating, and effective ways to reduce yourself and your students to the most
convenient data points possible. You
will be trained to produce data. You
will be trained to turn yourself into data. This is all the school needs of you.
The district that hires you only needs a warm body in the
classroom with the students. As long as
the district can show that you have credentials, have attended certain
training, and completed certain certificates, that’s all that matters. The school can then show the parents that the
students are in “good hands”. If you leave, you can be conveniently replaced by
worksheets until another warm body completes the checkbox process. You are a replaceable part. This is how you are viewed because you don’t
matter. We have a teacher shortage, we
have a recruitment and retention problem, but there’s no alarm, there is no
panic.
To the school, district, and state you are a very significant financial liability. You take up much needed budget space that can be better used (in their eyes) for technology, facilities, or other resources. To them, you are a facilitator. You are not the instructional resource your training led you to believe. You don’t need deep content knowledge, your curriculum could be written for you. You don’t need to map your delivery timeline, that is provided for you (even though you have to re-write it yourself in a template and call it “Lesson Plans”). You don’t need to know how to assess students, there are tests written to give you that information. You. Don’t. Matter.
To the United States, you are the reason hungry and tired
students don’t perform well on tests.
You are the reason the U.S. consistently ranks in the mid to high 20’s
on international education rankings. You
are the biggest problem in education. To the country, you are whiny and needy and
lazy. You should never complain about
being a teacher because you get “summers off”.
So then, why teach? I
know I don’t matter to my school, my district, my state, or my country. I understand that completely. I teach because I want to matter to my
students. If I can matter to my
students, I will be able to live a fulfilling life. I want to matter to the students that hate
school. I want to matter to the students
that don’t think they can do anything. I want to matter to the students who are hungry to make an impact on the world, or those who are just hungry. I
want to matter to the students who aren’t “good at math”. I want to show them a glimpse of their
infinite possibilities and perhaps inspire a few to continue their search for
their own potential after I meet them.
It would be great to feel like I matter to my employer, but
it’s no comparison to knowing that I matter to my students. So my advice for new teachers (and old):
understand how you are viewed, embrace the fact you don’t matter, and try every
day to matter to students. You may stick
around a bit longer.
