Teacher

06/17/2022

Being a teacher comes with all kinds of perks with the best one being, Summer. I will say it again, Summer. I once made the mistake of asking my son what his summer plans would be. His frustrated response:” Summer, winter it’s all the same Mom!” Well, not for me. Choosing to become a teacher was about the difference I planned on making in the world; it would be a better place because I had the power to be a change agent through my work with children. I would teach children to read and write and thereby give them the tools to unlock the whole world. I would support the weak ones and enrich the stronger ones. One day I would sit in the audience as a famous person accepted her award and publicly thank me for believing in them. I believed that every day I would teach a new and brilliant concept and that my students would sit in neat rows hanging on my every word. I thought that money was not important and it was okay to make do with less as long as I had enough to provide a yeshiva education for my children and support my family . These are my reflections and this is my truth. An aspect of being a teacher that I always loved was my flexible schedule. I could be home with my children, not stress about holidays and enjoy the winter breaks and vacations. Best of all, every year like clockwork, there was the long lovely summer to do nothing or whatever I wanted to do, to look forward to. Of late, in the newspapers and journals, there are articles upon articles bemoaning the shortage of qualified people who are choosing to be teachers. For all kinds of reasons, even the lure of a glorious free summer, there is not enough to tempt the best and the brightest to join our ranks. No matter when someone started their career in teaching,some 50 years ago for me, the old timers (I now consider myself a very old timer), would bemoan those good old days. Teachers would sit in the “teacher’s room”, yup back then too, and share tales of woe and regret about the way kids talked, slovenly work habits, and “oh those parents”. Sure, in those days we used blackboards and purple papered ditto machines, but the conversations were the same. Pre and post covid, kids and their parents complained; too much or too little work, bullying in the schoolyard, a teacher or kid said this or that and more. I do not have to tell you. I do believe it’s been a bit tougher of late, but I do remember long ago conversations with parents that resulted in sleepless nights and cognitive dissonance. And just like it is today, the kids figured themselves out, grew up and found a successful path. This past week, three sets of tough incorrigible parents met me, asked to hug me and even tanked me. One parent even apologized for their child, true that! Today, the value in being a teacher may have been lost to the lure of big bucks, hedge funds and fancy cars. One of my husband’s most promising high school students, with dreams of making the world a better place, recently told him just that; he was in the business of making money. What is happening to our values? What standards are we modeling for our children if teaching is no longer the profession of choice for their children? What does that portend for our future? I have written much about the trajectory of this past year; the mostly highs and the many lows. We started masked in September and slowly evolved to happy smiles. We confronted sometimes short but often long lists of zoom students that gave us pause about how to include them even before our day even started. Some teachers themselves were laid low with the daunting virus causing us to scramble for suitable subs. And we don't even want to count the long list of dormant health issues that challenge our day to day. We finally “opened” the building to mostly fanfare but still some pushback. We never want to go back to a “closed” building again. With all of that and more, because of our TEACHERS, you, the kids had an amazing year. Thank you, Thank you! At the recent HANC Carnival and fun dinner(an oxymoron I know), my teacher husband Bob had the best time(yet, another oxymoron). It seems that a number of his former high school students are now parents at HANC. When they spotted him in the crowd, they rushed around him with joy and adoration. There is no feeling better than that! I feel bad for all the people who wanted to be teachers and somehow got talked out of it. I feel sorry for all the children who are missing out on potentially amazing teachers who are forever lost to them. Enough. It’s a sunny glorious day; a day in which shabbos and summer is on the horizon. Ain’t nothing better than that, absolutely nothing! Shabbat Shalom. ReplyForward