Hello Beautiful People,
Sometimes, when you’ve been teaching for a while, you start to wonder why the heck you’re in such a profession – especially lately, when teachers have become public enemy number one.
You can’t help wonder, where’s the love? You can’t help wonder, were schools like this when I was young? You can’t help but wonder, what’s happening to the values of our youth? To the education system in this country? You can’t help but wonder, whose bright idea was it to make all these tests? Would the lawmakers of today be able to rise to the standards of excellence that they’re setting forth for our kids? You can’t help but wonder, what happens when you do your best in the classroom – when you fight the good fight, when you teach with passion and knowledge and zest and life – and then your students go home to a household that doesn’t value anything, let alone education?
What. Then.
Well, my fellow teachers, you push through. You fight the good fight. You learn how to tune out the haters, you learn to filter in what’s right. What’s True. What’s Correct. You learn how to filter in the facts, and you throw the hearsay and the gossip and the speculation out with last night’s trash.
I know you didn’t join this profession to have the summers off.
I know you didn’t join this profession to be a millionaire. I mean, that’s just silly.
I know you didn’t join this profession because it was easy.
Cause it most certainly is. Not.
I know that you joined this profession because you wanted to help. Because you wanted to guide. Inspire. Challenge.
I know that you joined this profession because you wanted to help make this world a better place, and you wanted to do that by shaping the future of America. You believed in the kids. And you know what? They believe in you, too.
There’s no test that can measure the mark of a good teacher. You can’t bottle it up. You can’t make a rubric for it. There’s no formula. They can make all the APPR’s and Common Cores, and fancy-shmancy tests that they want – but when it comes down to it, you’re the one who knows what’s best for your students. You’re the one who sees them eight hours of the day. You’re the one who gives them the tools and the skills that will guide them towards his or her goals. You’re the one who makes a difference in the lives of those kids.
You.
This past Thanksgiving, I had a recent graduate come back and visit me. My boy, well, he’s in the army. And he’s thrilled. He’s growing. He’s learning. He’s maturing. And the first that he wanted to do when he came back to his hometown was visit school. He wanted to come see us. His teachers. His social worker. His guidance counselor.
He wanted to say thank you.
I wanted to cry right there.
Cause see, that’s why I wanted to teach. That’s why we all want to teach. Not for fame or fortune or glory, no, that’s not it at all.
We teach because we want to make a difference.
We teach because we want to be that one adult in a student’s life that they can look to for advice, for guidance, for praise, for inspiration.
We teach because we care, and don’t you dare let anyone else convince you otherwise.
So, as this holiday week begins, and as the digs about teacher vacations start to roll in, know that I’m cheering for you. Know that there are people out there who appreciate you. Who join you in celebrating your successes, who never want to see you fail.
Know that you deserve this little respite.
Know that you make a difference.
Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays!
Live, Love, Learn,