This letter was inspired by NWP Write Now, and a blog written by Lester Laminack and Susan James - a call for all of us to write letters. It is also a nod to Deborah Hopkinson who graciously gave permission for A Letter to My Teacher to be read in celebration of National Teacher Appreciation week.
Somewhere in 2006 I found this Rockwell painting called Tired Sales Girl on Christmas Eve and I collaged it in a writer's notebook with pens, pencils, chalk, and papers to grade. I put a box over the head and drew xx's for the eyes and a frown with a tongue hanging out for the mouth. It was a satirical art piece and I told my 11th and 12th graders, "You're doing this to me."
Next thing I knew, a kid made my Rockwell image into a t-shirt for a punk band. "It's so ##%#% cool, Crandall. My boyfriend's band wants it to be their album cover."
See. What we do inspires punk rockers. I don't think that band ever went anywhere, except making loud noises in a basement of some home in Kentucky or Indiana where parents were likely upstairs telling one another, "I wish school could be 24/7," "He's not my kid," and "If only that vasectomy worked."
I imagine parents are feeling overwhelmed right now, too, as they are coming to witness more about their kids and learning. I know they are likely seeing that teachers are working tirelessly to find a way to reach students, no matter the obstacle, in these strange times. Teachers make it work. Teachers always have. Teachers always do. Teachers always will. Even so, there's little credit, they're often ignored, and too frequently they're silenced and sidelined on issues of educational policy and on thinking for what is best for kids. Administrators make whacky decisions, test companies lick their lips on ways to sell districts products, and academics, like me, publish in scholarly journals about what teachers need to improve learning. Yet, no one knows the truth more about the phenomenon of teaching than teachers who are in the classroom, doing the work, and maintaining the integrity of the profession.
I can be an essentialist. A few administrators are just as passionate and dedicated to young people and schools as their teachers. I wish there were more of them. Kids can't excel unless their teachers can excel, which only results when administrators trust and support them both. I have not met a testing company executive who has struck me as wise, or with the best interest of students in mind. Instead, they are carnival barkers who talk in circles...the language of gibberish that politicians understand.
News flash. It isn't brain science. Listen to teachers.
Correction. Listen to students and teachers. Let Lily Tomlin, Dolly Parton and Jane Fonda run the business...redesign the whole shebang, and when all of this is over, let's not return to normal. Let's return to better.
This is year 24 for me in schools, first as a graduate student, then as a teacher, followed by researcher, and now as a professional developer, National Writing Project Director, and associate professor. I continue to tell administrators in every school that the best way to improve a school is to listen to the kids and let the teachers, through them, make the decisions. They put so many hours into the institution, face to face, on the floor, and with the impossible, all while countless stimuli comes at them. It is a profession where individuals have their feet tied together, their hands wrapped behind their back, and their mouths duct taped, only to be thrown into an Olympic-size pool where they must swim in record time. Yet they do it. They try. Why? Because teachers will do anything to help their students learn....swim...stay afloat.
I want to applaud kindergarten teachers, those who teach in elementary schools, middle-level educators (what I call mental school), and all who are doing classroom work at the high school. I see you. I know you. I respect you. You're a breed who, like nurses, medical workers, clergy, fire-fighters, military personnel, officers, doctors, and modern day grocery-store clerks, who remains willing to put yourself on the frontlines for a better cause (the humanity of all of us together). You put the personal on the back burner with faith in the public --- for the good of the world.
Those who are teaching right now, and who have kids at home, while taking care of elders and worrying about neighbors and fretting about relatives...I see you, too. I'm in awe. It's a lot. I know you are the Tired Sales Girl (and boys) that Rockwell captured on Christmas Eve --- the look of every Friday throughout a 180-day school year.
(cough cough: parents - if you have 2 -3 kids at home...heck, even 8-11 children at home...and very fruitful loins...that is still 19 less young people in your care typical for teachers every day, hour to hour, morning until afternoon)
(cough cough: now, parents...imagine having administrators hovering over you telling you what to do, hiring experts to come and tell you how they would do it better, all while a state system is around the corner to measure how you're doing with judgements published on State websites, in National Reports, and in new articles. Imagine if your credibility as a parent was measured by a single test designed by a company that your child has to to take....to measure your work...your worth).
(cough cough: That is teaching. And whether others care to listen or not, teachers know what they're doing. If they didn't, they wouldn't have clamored online as quick as they did to create a sense of normalcy while administrators and politicians bumbled their expertise without a plan. Teachers went to work. Teachers called one another. Teachers dug into their resources. Teachers drove books to homes. Teachers made deliveries. Teachers called every house. Teachers reached out on the Internet. Teachers taught. Teachers worried. Teachers problem-solved. Teachers guided one another. And teachers maintained the integrity of the profession).
Teachers will continue to teach, because that's what they do (and yes, I know there are those that don't ...and those that hate kids...and others that will never find their way to a letter such as this...BUT THEY ARE NOT THE NORM.
It's May 7th, and I've been teaching online since March 16th. I gave up spring break so I could be on a task force of educators to help other educators transition at the University to online spaces. I then went on a task force to help K-12 teachers to move online, too. Why...
...because that is what educators do. And I now need to grade. Projects and papers have arrived and these grades are due...while more and more ZOOM meetings are scheduled and more and more reporting, paperwork, and spread sheets are being sent to me (us) by the powers that be with a note that says, "Can you get this to me by this afternoon?" Teaching is spinning plates blindfolded while balancing on a unicycle, where kids and administrators are constantly throwing things at you.
This year is harder than usual. But it's also beautiful. Look at how we balance the unicycle from home, with dogs licking our ankles, cats leaping at plates, and laundry needing to be folded.
I'm absolutely amazed at the ingenuity, creativity, and hope that teachers are accomplishing in tremendous ways, especially during a hard time. Teachers are the hope (I love / to believe / in hope - Brendan Kennelly)(HOPE NATION - Rose Brock). When you want to get things done...look to the teachers...look to the nurses and doctors on the front lines. And look to those who are serving the American population right now, including Hans the young man who checks out my groceries, and not
...those ranting and babbling on Facebook and news programs right now...
Look to those who are doing....
....have always been doing...
...who will continue to do....
Actions speak louder than words.
See who is acting. Teachers are acting. We got this.
~Bryan
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