(Although the COVID-19 pandemic has colored every aspect of education as we once knew it and will continue to alter the typical school routine for some time afterward, I wrote the following article as if the uncertain times we’re living through now hadn’t occurred. I’ve endured many changes to the education system, both good and bad. Yet since my six books and 100 articles for educators and parents have always focused on attending to the fundamental needs of the whole child, I thought it best to continue to write from the perspective of the school experience that, in a great many respects, we all long to return to as soon as possible.)
Every brand-new teacher has their own private vision of how their life in the classroom will look. Take this moment to think back on what you yourself initially hoped teaching would be like.
Perhaps, like me, you well remember your very first teaching day of that very first school year. That’s the moment when, for me, reality set in and quickly began to define my teaching career. After 27 years in the classroom, I now know that the factors that can cloud a teacher’s original dream are vast and varied.
Depending on the day, maybe it’s the endless stream of meetings, trainings, drills, observations, and evaluations that distract you from the students you set out to support and inspire. Maybe it’s the students themselves, with their antics and outbursts, who distract you and their classmates from the learning they so desperately need. Maybe it’s the bureaucracy, large class sizes, lack of adequate funding and resources, outdated facilities, and low pay that wear you down. Maybe it’s the helicopter parents or the hostile parents or the hopeless parents that make an already-hard job even harder. And maybe it’s the neediest students, with their challenges and traumas, that make academic learning the least of what these kids need from you.
Yet here I am, on the very last day of my very last year in education, to affirm that, despite the obstacles and actualities of teaching, I’ve come as close as practically possible to attaining my original teaching dream. My last six years spent at T.S. King Middle School in Los Angeles have allowed me to finally cultivate the classroom filled with willingness, wisdom, wonder, warmth, and worth I always imagined.
I ran an extremely tight ship, and still my students loved me and loved my class—and I loved them right back. I was free to teach to the standards in the ways that best suited both myself and my students. I felt confident and excited to share my passion for reading, writing, and film with my students, and we regularly laughed, gasped, and wept together as we explored the universal human condition through literature and art. I sent my 8th graders off to high school armed with the self-confidence, self-expression, and self-efficacy to not only succeed but to distinguish themselves. I’m retiring without burnout or bitterness, and I intentionally savored every moment of my final year in the classroom.
For 21 years before this, I tried in earnest to flourish while working at a dysfunctional school. I admit that I’m extremely sensitive—I don’t think you can be a great teacher without being so—but that amount of caring and presence in a chaotic, callous environment, where teachers were the scapegoats and the students were allowed to run the school with impunity, was soul killing for me.
It saved my sanity to finally change schools, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the best decision you can make as an educator is to work at a high-functioning school, especially in today’s world where the teacher will always be the first to be blamed. Such a school doesn’t have to be in an affluent neighborhood or be high performing, but there must be a campus culture that is calm, affirming, and scholarly. Within that high-functioning school there will still be plenty of students who are low-performing, needy, or at-risk—with some kids who could be called all three—and you will find no shame and much satisfaction in choosing to teach these students at a school such as this. I certainly have.
If you already work at a high-functioning school, I urge you not to take it for granted. If you don’t and are looking for a workplace that works with you rather than against you, you’ll be able to spot a high-functioning school quite quickly. Just walk the campus during lunch and then stick around for a while afterward and listen at the door of several classrooms. If you don’t hear a pervasive buzz of leadership, love, laughter, and learning, both in and out of the classroom, run for the hills. This is not the school for you.
I’m dead serious here. This isn’t the advice of some disgruntled teacher dinosaur. I’ve been livin’ large in the classroom, and I want you to be, too. Don’t be like me 27 years ago thinking you’ll singlehandedly change the system and every student life you encounter. Oh, I did a whole lot of good during the time I was at my dysfunctional school, and I’m proud of my service and dedication there. But staying for as long as I did very nearly destroyed my wellbeing and my career.
Remember this above all else: As long as anything is chronically preventing you from teaching with joy and grace, you will not be a fully effective teacher. You’ll begin to distance and numb yourself from your students and your work, and that coldness ultimately serves no one.
I’m a strong defender of neighborhood public schools that attend to the needs of the whole child and serve the entire community. I’ve worked at two that represent the best and worst of what’s possible. It’s entirely feasible to turn around a dysfunctional school, but that won’t happen unless teachers are fully supported and respected. Even with all its problems, I would’ve been honored to teach my entire career at my former school—if the micromanaging and bullying of talented, compassionate teachers, who actually want to be there and to support the neediest students, had ceased.
Only with that kind of trust between teachers and administrators can all stakeholders launch a sustained, concerted effort to:
- establish a schoolwide culture of courtesy and cooperation where empathy, inclusion, and altruism are the norm,
- build nurturing relationships so students feel a strong sense of belonging and support from their teachers and peers, and
- inspire passion and purpose in every student so their days at school are filled with creativity, meaning, and direction.
That’s how you turn around a failing school, convince parents to send their precious children to their local public school, inspire unruly and uninterested children to open their hearts and minds, and progressively begin to raise student academic achievement.
As I wrote in one of my first articles, Why I Left the School I Loved, I don’t feel guilty for leaving my former school; I feel sad. I’m sad that an idealistic new teacher, who beat the odds and became a great teacher, even while working at a dysfunctional school, was ultimately left with no other reasonable option than to find a better school. Teachers deserve great schools, just as much as students do.
My final wish in my final education article is for all my colleagues far and near: When you decide to retire, I hope your last year in education will be filled with as much teaching joy and satisfaction as I have enjoyed.
Thank you for all you do for our children.
For a wealth of wisdom and practical strategies for how to teach empathy, equity, inclusion, and altruism, read the inspiring book by Robert Ward, Teaching the Benefit Mindset.
