Real Talk
For me, the students have prevented me from leaving… up until now. Their innocence and energy have given me hope while the adults have sucked the lifeblood from my body, much the same as a dental hygienist sucks out blood-tinged saliva after a rigorous tooth cleaning. The difference is there is no feeling of renewal, just the sting of long-lasting pain.
I can no longer close my door and teach.
For the most part, people that enter the teaching preference are optimists that want to change lives… our students’ lives. This was me too. I had an idealistic view of what would occur in the classroom from my education classes, which depicted happy educators teaching fun and innovative lessons with all of the students engaged.
Well, that went to hell in a handbasket rather quickly.
Sure, I have to close my door (and lock it for fear of school shooters), but anyone at any time can come in to check if I am instructing exactly by the teacher’s manual. And it’s always at exactly the precise time something is going wrong.
Every tiny thing I do is scrutinized and criticized by administrators, parents, and other teachers: The Adults.
Their words are contradictory, confusing, and always critical: “You are making it too fun. But you aren’t making it fun enough. You are teaching CRT. But you aren’t teaching the curriculum fast enough. You are teaching the curriculum too fast for some kids. You are too strict, too soft, too easy, too hard.”
See what I mean? The adults have sucked the joy right out of teaching. We are stuck in a Goldilocks book and can never find the “just right” with these people.
I am done trying. I am truly leaving.
Education is no longer student-focused.
Did you ever hear the hollow words, “We are doing it for the kids,” and know the exact opposite to be true? It’s not about the kids at all; it’s about the adults and their egos. The only way that higher-ups prove to anyone that they are successful at their jobs is by the cold, sterile façade of standardized test score data, which fails to illustrate anything of substance and character.
The desire to succeed and improve scores becomes paramount over the real mental, physical, and academic needs of students and teachers. Students become an avenue to administrative promotions and awards. Students who aren’t producing results are expendable, and so are their teachers.
Developmentally inappropriate standards, lack of recess, not enough mental health professionals, and the big business of changing curricula prioritize students dead last.
Respect has left the building.
I will not be a part of a hypocritical workplace that refuses to focus on teacher retention and instead subjects teachers to many forms of torment and abuse. We know it’s not right, but we see abusive power everywhere. Yet we are powerless to do anything.
Instead of helping and offering assistance to new teachers, there is a culture of fear that prevents teachers from standing together against abusive administrators. Cliques among teachers form, and a nightmarish climate ensues.
Parents are also given the power that has us all walking on eggshells in our own classrooms. Teachers are villainized and disrespected, and no one is standing up for us.
Who would want to stay?
Without substantial change, I fear my colleagues will be close behind me. There is momentum behind the teacher shortage because we are fed up with coming home exhausted and mentally unwell. To feel powerless while your value and that of other teachers and students is relegated to test scores is demeaning and unforgivable. We all deserve so much better. And until that happens, the only number people should be paying attention to is the number of teachers walking out the door.
