Saints, Suckers, or Worse

The arc of my working life has been a little, well, unusual.  Three years ago I gave up managing a small business to return to the field of education.  I blame my family, coming as I do from a long line of people who have worked hard to disassociate the typical link between education level and income.  Just in the past two generations in my family there are social workers, clergy, educators and (as in my mother's case) founders of nonprofits.  Most of them earned Master's degrees or higher, and most of them earned a living that enabled them just to get by.  Earlier in my life, I used to resent that my parents answered the call to service while my sisters and I did without; however, I had to make peace with this family tradition, since I have been in education over 20 years now.

Anyway, I think often about my profession, and sometimes I reflect on how others view teachers.  Historically, I think teachers were revered in American culture as having something akin to a religious vocation.  This view was influenced in no small part by the fact that there was an unending supply of intelligent women whose only choices for respectable work were teaching or nursing.  Their lives were not as restricted as those of nuns, but there were shades of common elements, the assumption of self-sacrifice along with the notion that teachers' private lives were rightly subject to institutional control -- regulations about how they could live, restrictions against going to taverns or being out at night, etc.  In the early 1900s even marriage disqualified a woman from teaching.

Carrie Newkirk, the subject of my current documentary project, recalled that married teachers were starting to be allowed to keep their jobs by the time she completed her education at the Chinquapin Colored School, a Rosenwald school (see my website www.underthekudzu.org for more information about these historic African American schools).  When she herself became a teacher in the 1940s times were changing even more.  Women were gradually starting to enter other fields, and the Great Migration drew many African Americans north and west.  The restrictions on female teachers eased a little more, and school districts no longer automatically fired pregnant teachers.  She had her own children during her teaching career without missing many days; their births coincided with breaks (whether by luck or intention, I did not ask).

Gradually the iconic single female teacher, who intensely dedicated her entire life to teaching, whose services could be bought at rates even lower than that of her male counterparts (who at least had a better chance to advance to administration), began to change.   In later decades women of the same intelligence and drive might still become teachers, or they might decide to become college professors or lawyers or doctors.

In the meantime, teaching salaries in most states did not grow at a rate that reflected the reality of this new competition with the attractions of other professions.  That leaves teachers with a new image; regardless of their passion for teaching or their education level, many other college-educated Americans regard teachers with some mix of admiration and contempt.  Recently I read a personal finance book in which the author sneered "Surely, dedicating yourself to a being a Kindergarten teacher is a nice thing to do..." but, the author continued, it was not the smart thing to do for one's financial future.  In this view, investing oneself in building the next generation seems foolish.

The last and least savory influence on our image relates to an assumption that, since really smart people would not opt for a teaching career, teachers must either be less intelligent than other professionals or have some horrible ulterior motive.  That is where the immoral actions of a few teachers come in; news stories about the few teachers who abuse children are picked up and reported nationwide.  Of course they should be held accountable-- if I knew or suspected any kind of abuse I would report it instantly, and anyone who abuses a child should be prosecuted and punished.  I just find it interesting that our nation's media latches onto these stories with such vigor, as if they prove that we should be suspicious of every teacher's motives.  Yet if that is true, the social fabric of our nation is truly at risk.  Public education is the only endeavor most Americans undertake together, as a society.

Is it really true, that we should view teachers on the whole with mistrust, even contempt?  Teachers have been convenient scapegoats for many problems that exist in schools and society, but pat statements about how we are no longer first in the world in math and science omit an historical perspective.  I have no doubt that high school graduates in the 1950s were more skilled in some areas than average high school graduates today.  However, focusing on blaming American teachers neglects some significant trends.  For example, from my documentary research I know that in the rural area where I live high school dropout rates in the 1940s were in the 80% range for both black and white students.  Today, many more students complete high school and take college entrance exams.  The diversity of this group now-- which includes English language learners, special education students, and others who might never have even completed high school decades ago--dilutes average scores.  Similarly, more students take AP courses, and the average pass rate has dropped somewhat.  Would we be better off if these students did not strive?  Some of these students will not succeed on these exams, but many of them will, and will go on to college.

We can compare ourselves to Denmark, which does yield some interesting contrasts.  I have read that the child poverty rate there is less than 5%.  In the school where I teach, 71% of the children are on free or reduced lunch.  That is absolutely not to say that poor children cannot achieve high levels of educational attainment.  I grew up in a low-income, single-parent household, and I have a Master's degree from Harvard.  But only a fool would say that having schools where low-income and high- needs children are concentrated doesn't make teaching harder.  So many conflicts arise at school because of the brittle egos of children who have little besides their names and personal attributes.  Almost anything-- a remark about someone's hair, an insult about someone's second-hand clothing-- can cause conflict to start brewing.  This detracts from a peaceful learning environment.

I bought some school supplies the other week for one of my students, and the next day he came to class without anything.  I asked him what happened.  He wouldn't say, but tears came to his eyes.  I am thinking that one of his older siblings, or perhaps another child in his neighborhood, took them.  If you think these things don't matter, then you don't know children.  

Another interesting fact about the Danish educational system is that teachers are held in high regard and are well compensated.  Perhaps we should compensate teachers in every state in our the nation at a level that doesn't cause personal finance writers to sneer.

I would ask some of my colleagues what they think, but most of them don't have much time to talk.  They teach, attend many school-related afternoon and evening events, plan lessons and mark papers, coach sports and organize clubs, do required online professional development...and about half of them work second jobs.

Unlocked

It has been such a busy fall at my school, but I am thankful that I moved up a grade level with my EC students from last year, so that I already knew most of them.  However,  a few new students have tied me up in knots of paperwork, not to mention providing accommodations we are not really set up to provide.  We get through with a little humor and a lot of goodwill.

The nicest thing about this fall has been seeing some of my students from last year grow so much. Learning disabled children who started last year glazed over, kids who wouldn't even pick up a pencil because they were so overwhelmed by the transition to sixth grade, are now keeping up with their work and volunteering answers in class.

Not that they don't still need support.  I pull them out of their larger classes and work with them...it's just that seeing them try, even just seeing them keep their work in order, is so amazing after knowing the way we started last year.

I think of one boy in particular who has changed so much.   At the start of last year he had two modes: Staring into space, or insulting people.  I was at my wits' end, and I had to stop pulling him out with his group.  Of course, that wasn't optimal, because then I had to divide my time between him and the others.  Anyway, I recall one day in particular that epitomized how bad things were:  He had a nasty exchange with a student who uses a wheelchair.  "Why don't you get up out of that chair and do some exercise?" he asked-- this was either a brilliant put-down or a complete lack of awareness on his part (I think it was the latter).

The other student retaliated verbally; the whole situation was terrible.  I had to take disciplinary action against the first boy for behavior that verged on bullying (not just for this incident, but for all the name-calling he had done).  That was when I decided this boy couldn't come with the group for a while, until his social skills improved.

There were many obstacles to face at once, but my thought was that if I could get this boy to feel better about himself by improving academically, his tolerance and compassion for others might improve.  I worked with him one-on-one and lavished praise on him every time he did the smallest thing right.  We also worked on role plays, practicing more positive ways to interact.

At first it was horrendously slow, even getting him to keep holding the pencil was a huge struggle. His attention drifted constantly and he wanted to go to the restroom, the locker, another class--in short, he wanted to be anywhere but where he was, confronting the work he could not do.  He had little number sense and would give me random guesses on simple problems.  Ten times ten was fifty. There are seventy-five cents in a dollar.  To add and subtract he counted on his fingers.

We persisted.  I did flash cards sometimes, and when he did grade level problems I hung at his elbow.  When he tired of that I put him on computer math games and interactive tutorials. Gradually, he began to have some success.  A completed homework here, a correct answer in class there.   I encouraged and bribed him by turn.  After two months his attitude had improved and I was able to include him in the group again.

It just so happened that my principal came to observe me last spring after he had rejoined this group. This boy, who had been so nasty, now jumped to get a cup of water for my student who uses a wheelchair.  In turn I saw that child push a pencil across the table for him.  I was stunned. Even
in the middle of the session, being observed by the principal, I stopped and tears came to my eyes.
It was a moment of grace I will never forget. The path this boy took to begin to unlock his academic potential had started him on another, even more important journey.