The teaching profession is under attack. The disgruntled parent is gossiping at the coffee house about some injustice done in the classroom. The taxpayer complains that the kids these days aren’t learning anything. Business leaders want to come in and tell the schools how everything should be done. Politicians simultaneously add more accountability measures from public schools while funneling more resources toward alternative education. And no one seems to believe that the teacher in the classroom actually might know what she’s doing.
Throughout my career, I’ve heard teachers lamenting the fact that they’re not treated like the professionals they are. Most of them have master’s degrees. They’re licensed professionals. Yet no one seems to take them seriously. Everyone wants to tell them how to do their jobs.
From a parent’s perspective, I have worked with about 50 teachers in three different school districts so far. My kids — currently in 7th and 9th grades — have had some outstanding teachers. And they’ve also had some awful teachers. About half of them were average. They had their strengths and weaknesses. They seemed to have their hearts in the right place, even if they didn’t stand out as stellar educators. Another third or so of their teachers have been horrible. Again, this is across five school buildings in three districts. There are some teachers who shouldn’t be in the classroom. I never would have dreamed that it was a third of them, but that’s been my experience so far. The others, that minority of teachers we’re delighted to see years after our students have left their classrooms, are special. They’re the ones who make this whole educational process worth the effort. We need more teachers like that. We need more people who are working to make a positive difference in kids’ lives. We need real professional teachers.
There are some pretty common sense things teachers can do — and not do — to encourage people to take them more seriously and to become the professionals they want to be. Here are five:
Stop complaining that you don’t have time. Yes, I know. You work at home. You have lesson plans to write, and papers to grade. I’m going to avoid the cheap shot of telling you not to make the kids do so many stupid worksheets, and you won’t have to grade them. And I’m not going to focus on three months off, because we all know you don’t really have three months off.
But the teachers in my school district work 186 days a year. That means they have 179 days off. Outside of education, most people work 240-250 days per year. That’s 60 days — a full 12 weeks — more. Sure, teachers work long hours during the school year, but so do doctors and attorneys and anyone putting their MBA to good use. And they don’t get overtime either.
I’m not saying you don’t deserve time off. And I’m not saying you’re not worth it. But let’s give the comments like “I can’t believe we have to come back to school already” and “why can’t spring break be two weeks long?” and “I just don’t have time to put anything else on my plate right now” a rest, shall we?
Know the content that you teach. I’m trained as a math teacher. That means I had more than 30 semester hours of college math, the very first course of which was calculus. If I can’t teach trigonometry or algebra II, I shouldn’t be in the classroom. Honestly, AP Calc and AP Stats shouldn’t be a problem either. The same is true across the content areas. My daughter’s middle school science teacher shouldn’t have fundamental misunderstandings about properties of matter. I realize that you may not have signed up to teach the class you find yourself in now. But you’re a professional, and this is all pretty basic stuff.
If one of my daughters is struggling with content, and that content is wrong, I will tell her it’s wrong. Usually, I’ll say something like “you misunderstood what the teacher said” or “she was trying to simplify it to make you understand better.” But that doesn’t have to happen too many times before the child figures out that I really mean “the teacher doesn’t have any idea what she’s talking about.”
Be an education expert. If I’m in a parent-teacher conference, your eyes shouldn’t glaze over when I mention Bloom’s taxonomy or UBD. You should have a philosophy of education, and it should be evident in your classroom. Your assessments should clearly measure your instructional objectives, and the grades you assign should be an indicator of what the student has learned, not what he has done. You should be able to defend the instructional value of everything you ask your learners to do.
You should not be ASKED to defend everything you ask your learners to do, but there are too many teachers in too many classrooms who aren’t being purposeful and intentional about their craft, and people are starting to ask what the hell is going on in the classroom because no one — including the teacher — seems to know.
I’m often amazed at the things we spend our professional development time on. We need to develop common assessments, because we’re not all on the same page when it comes to measuring student learning. We need to map our curriculum to content standards to make sure that the stuff we’re teaching is actually what we’re supposed to be teaching. We need to learn about professional learning communities, because working collaboratively to provide the best learning environment that we can for students is not something we already know how to do.
It seems like we’re constantly pulling science teachers together to teach them how to teach science. And we have to have a meeting of social studies teachers to go over the new social studies standards. And we need to work on differentiating instruction, because it turns out that our students don’t all learn the same way. And we need a model for intervention, so we’re not totally lost when our students don’t learn something the first time. And now you’re telling me that you want me to use something new and high-tech like the Internet as part of my instructional practice? That’s just going too far.
I think that many objective people looking at professional development schedules and topics might wonder what it is that these professionals are experts in. And they do have a point.
Be the professional you want others to see in you. Dress like a professional. Be organized and prepared and on time. Articulate your ideas clearly. Get rid of the cute fonts that keep people from taking you seriously. Know how to write in complete sentences that have subjects and predicates and verbs that agree and words that are spelled correctly. Use apostrophes and quotation marks where they belong.
Think of any two colleagues. Do you have their names in your mind? One of the three of you really needs to work on your written expression skills. If it’s not immediately apparent which of you it is, it’s probably you. If you need a refresher on basic grammar, ask any third grade teacher or any freshman English teacher to look at your writing. And for God’s sake, proofread your work if it’s going to be read by more than one person. I know you’re in a hurry. It’s worth the extra five minutes to make sure you look like you’re literate.
Be clear in your expectations. Most parents and students want to know one thing: how do I get a good grade in this class? You can eschew grades and assessment all you want, and that’s probably a very good thing. You can have the kids do projects and collaborate and work on activities that demonstrate their learning in all kinds of unique and innovative ways. You can motivate some of your learners to have a passion for the subject of your class, and they’ll do anything for you. But for most, it’s about the grade. If you tell them how to get the grade, and you’re fair about it, things will be much easier for you.
That doesn’t mean that you have to give up on your philosophy of education. It doesn’t mean that you have to compromize your principles or give up on common assessments. But it does mean that you should set reasonable expectations for your students, clearly articulate them, and hold students accountable for them.
One last thing: care. Care about your students. Care about your school. Care about education. This is a noble profession. You’re passing along our civilization, our culture, to the next generation. That’s important work. Take it serously. Love the kids. Prepare them for the world we’re leaving them. And people will treat you like the professional you are.
Photo credit: Audio-luci-store.it on Flickr.