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.