It’s been a while since I worked in a school even as I continue to teach. I suspect that I am somewhat out of touch with the realities and problems that today’s educators face. Now I only hear commentaries from those still fully involved with the profession of spreading knowledge. I listen to the complaints of parents whose children are still in school. I read articles and editorials outlining the difficulties that have arisen inside classrooms. I am an outsider looking in to a place where I once spent more hours each day than I did in my home where most of my time involved sleeping. Still, I feel a pull and tug, a strong connection to the teachers and students and parents who once were the focus of my daily work.
I was at a gathering of women who were concerned about their children’s well-being at school. They spoke of the difficult times that their young ones had endured in the past few years. They told glowing stories of teachers who heroically attempted to hold things together even as they seemed to be falling apart. They were not angry with the public school system or its administrators. Their target was only the time and treasure lost during the pandemic caused by a tiny virus that decimated so much of what we had come to expect from the world.
These women spoke of the fear that Covid invoked among their children. They understood and even applauded all of the efforts that educators made to keep their sons and daughters safe as well as still progressing in their learning. They all agreed that it was not the fault of teachers that the kids had fallen behind, become sad and unable to develop social skills. It was simply the cataclysmic impact of uncertainty and death on a worldwide scale that had affected their offspring. Even after almost four years since the sickness and death became the center of attention across the globe, it’s lasting legacy has been a generation of youngsters whose milestones were often unmet.
The women spoke in awe of teachers who went out of their way to keep the engines of education moving forward. They understood that those efforts were herculian and more often than not under appreciated. Each of them had personal stories of dedicated teachers who were heroes during the most difficult times. They wondered how and why schools and those who work in them had most recently become targets for criticism rather than praise. They complained that those making the most noise, fielding the most ridiculous charges against the work of our nation’s teachers, were setting the political agenda. It worries them to think that the reality of dedication and honest concern for the well being of the nation’s children demonstrated in public schools has become a political cudgel that ignores the the truth.
Our children and our teachers feel unsafe and misunderstood. We hear accusations of incompetence hurled at our educators and suggestions that our young cannot even read or write or do simple calculations. There are factions ready to tear down our schools to serve the beliefs of small segments of the population. Politicians want to drain funding, determine what can and cannot be taught, bring religious beliefs into the daily routines. At the same time the powers that be oversimplify the horrors of school shootings by suggesting that schools become fortresses guarded by armed adults rather than open and free environments of joy.
We have been remiss in accepting the psychological effects of the last chaotic years on our institutions and most especially in our children. The key is not to rant about test scores or to revise curricula but to take time to understand how deeply affected everyone has been by suffering, loss, isolation, anxiety. This should be a moment to praise those who valiantly carried on, including the teachers and their students rather than to suggest that they failed an important test of their mettle. There should be opportunities for openness and inclusion rather than focusing on a single way of living and believing. We are missing a grand opportunity to heal while we quibble incessantly over issues.
I have often noted that our children watch us and learn from how we behave in particular situations. In my essays I have recalled the impact that my parents and grandparents had on me. I have pointed to aunts, uncles, neighbors, teachers, famous people who molded my character, often without ever realizing how much they had influenced me. All of us know that what we see around us leaves a mark on who we become. Wouldn’t it make more sense to ask ourselves what we might do to demonstrate character to our young rather than to think that marching in curricular tandem is the route we must take? We are not even certain at this point what the problems are much less how to solve them. We would do well to pause the demolition of our schools and focus instead on how to build on the foundations that already exist. We might begin by acknowledging how hard our teachers have been working and how earnest the majority our youngest citizens really are.
My heart still belongs inside those classrooms. I know first hand how teachers made me a better person. I understand the blood, sweat and tears associated with being a dedicated teacher. I have observed the earnest efforts of both teachers and students to make themselves and the world better. It is long past time for us all to step forward and ask how we might help to carry some of the heavy load of our educational system. We might start by acknowledging the worth of our teachers and students and showing them the respect they have earned.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 