A Teacher Rallying Cry

As much as I am enjoying the abundance of social media posts finally recognizing the challenging work that teachers do, and how they should be paid more, and how everyone’s child may, in fact, be a...not completely wholesome and innocent young person...there is something deeper of a responsibility right now that teachers must face. In fact, it boils down to the very individual teacher, as both an independent entity and a representative of the greater teaching community. It isn’t the “real-to-virtual” transition, it isn’t the “prepare more homework”, it isn’t the “trust the children and/or their parents”. No, this global pandemic, which is adversely affecting everyone in our global society, is placing in front of teachers a very specific filter through which we must all jump, and be judged. 

Now, to make the point outside of the teaching profession for a moment: wow. This is quite the ordeal, at quite the scale. It becomes difficult as humans to grasp empathy for those at the center of this because it is so...different. It becomes difficult not to minimize it in our minds, whether out of fear, or pain, or ignorance, or confusion. It becomes difficult to truly appreciate those on the front lines because, well, our front lines don’t put us in that type of danger even at the worst of times. Gathering information becomes suspect. Taking action upon suspect information becomes gathering. (I didn’t even plan to make that statement, but how ironically true!) Major crises tend to reveal genuine character, genuine intelligence, genuine trust, and here we are faced with that on an international scale. Even the most altruistic are challenged to not do what their hearts encourage them to do, or at least force them to find another way to do it. I have nothing but respect and admiration for all of those directly affected: medical workers, research scientists, the inflicted and their families, and all the workers who are either out of work or stretched thin and exposed.

Teachers, however, is that upon which I can comment knowledgeably and credibly, (to an extent). As a Montessori teacher, not having children present essentially corrupts the learning process. Using hands-on learning techniques, beautiful materials, and creating a mock-society within which our students learn both academic and social skills on a daily basis, distance learning can only be a shell of our learning environment. But, it can be one glorious shell with the right creativity. As an Upper Elementary guide (4-6th graders), I am not in the dire straits that teachers of younger students may find themselves. Honestly, if the school year ended today, I would be satisfied with what my 5th and 6th graders have learned, achieved, or at least been introduced to. However to think of the younger students, anywhere from school age to 4th graders, uprooted from their place of learning, and then expect them to transfer the focus and energy of school into their place of comfort and leisure seems a fool’s errand. This extends to all learning styles. We are essentially being asked to succeed behind enemy lines. 

(Parents, I’m not calling you enemies, and, in fact, know that when we are allies the greatest success of your children can be achieved, and not without you as allies. You are the x-factor and the true catalyst of your child’s academic success. However, believe it or not, teachers are often faced with resistance, both passive and aggressive, and the enabling of “two steps backwards” every day when the child returns home.)

So, Teachers, what do we do? How do we succeed? How do we place our finger on the child through the screen? How do we support, praise, correct, shake...ok maybe not shake...the student from afar and infiltrate the confines of their “extended Spring Break because many of them aren’t quite old enough to understand what is going on and why they are working from home”? (Again, this part applies to a greater extent to younger students, but may still apply in some ways to high school and college/university students). Who cares how we do it? It just needs to be done. 

This leads us to that filter. This leads us to that judgement day. This leads us to that question you must ask yourself every day, in your planning, in your interactions and communications, in your idle time:

How can I prove that I am irreplaceable? 

In a time where the word “essential” has become, well, essential, what are you prepared to do to earn that label for yourself? What are you going to do to represent for all teachers around you that we are all worthy of that label? 

Irreplaceable.

Adjective - impossible to replace if lost or damaged

“I could have another you in a minute/Matter of fact, he’ll be here in a minute”

Teachers, it doesn’t even take that full minute that Beyoncé’s man’s replacement required. It takes a click. It takes the turn of a page in a workbook. It’s a link, it’s a crossword puzzle, it’s a one-directional assignment that may or may not ever be done, with little to no level of expectation or accountability. In this time where our students have been taken out of our physical world, and us out of theirs, are you going to settle for being a worksheet? Are you going to accept that giving a child a grade-leveled workbook is the same as coming to your class everyday? 

Yes we are relatively limited in what we can do. The blessed of us to live and work in a world with technological assistance are definitely better prepared for this, and must choose to use this to our advantage. Those who live and work in a community without have a greater challenge, but not one that cannot be overcome. As far as my limited following of the news, and my daily trip to the mailbox, tells me, they haven’t canceled the mail. Phones have not been canceled. The internet definitely has not been canceled. There is a way to communicate. There is a way to be creative with that communication to continue your students along the path that you started them on at the beginning of the year. There is a way to inject yourself into their homes and bridge the gap once and for all between home and school. But are you willing to do it?

I have seen countless stories of teachers making themselves irreplaceable, standing on the lawns of their children to say hello, having virtual classes and ending with a whole-class sing-along, writing letters to their students and creating not only dialogue, but lessons on letter writing and addressing envelopes. These are the teachers that we all intended to be when we entered the profession. These are the carriers of the Flame of Purpose for educators all over the world. These are the inspirations we need, and the reminders of what our job actually is: to teach not only letters and numbers, but flexibility, adaptability, grit, selflessness, community, and pure, unadulterated care. 

So, as Queen B said, “Don’t you ever for a second get to thinking/You’re irreplaceable”...

Prove it. 

“You must not know about me, you must not know about me”

Happy teaching friends; ours is a job that never stops.

-Own Your I-