The power of a teacher is measured not only in their course mastery but also in how they present themselves in relation to their students – in good and bad times.

….At that moment, the classroom was utterly silent and still. Not because the tension in the palace halls was thick as London fog. Not because the suspense was paralysis-inducing. No, it was silent because all eyes were on me. All ears waiting to hear my response.

I was standing in the faculty room, listening to a colleague complain about a student. He is impulsive. He is disorganized. He challenges my authority. He offends me. 

After her one-minute tirade, a veteran math teacher replied with a comment I’ll always remember: “He’s gonna be your favorite by the end of the year. Just watch.”

As teachers on the receiving end of that email, take a deep breath. This is an opportunity to connect! To build a bridge with the parent who shares the second half of each day with your student. This is your chance—long before giving summative feedback of any kind—to hear the parents describe their kid. And if it goes well, this conversation will include vulnerability on both sides. Listen for it. 

I recently returned from a week in southern France where I spent quality time with a former colleague, a world languages teacher from California. This teacher, a French native, invited me to join her and her brother for a tour of the Southeast of France, amidst medieval castles and Roman ruins at the foothills of the Northern Pyrenees. Of course the weather was balmy, the wine was flowing and the food was healthy and rich in a way that makes one wonder what they’re doing so right in that country.

Congratulations to all the teachers who are finishing out the 2018-19 academic year. School’s out, now the fun begins, right? Summer is nothing but endless stretches of free time, long days and short nights, sleep-ins, siestas, and late dinners past midnight, right? I mean, this is where it all pays off, right?   

In past blogs, I’ve written about teaching as a type of anonymous donation. We never expect to receive appreciation for the lives we positively impact in the moment. There’s never a situation in recorded history where a student turned to her teacher and said, “Mrs. Guthrie, the way you taught the subjunctive absolutely changed my life…”

Whatever side of the aisle you’re on, chances are you were moved by a statement new Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez made on the House floor last week regarding climate change. In it, she stated:

 "(Climate change) is not an elitist issue, this is a quality of life issue," she said. "You want to tell people that their concern and their desire for clean air and clean water is elitist? Tell that to the kids in the south Bronx, which are suffering from the highest rates of childhood asthma in the country. Tell that to the families in Flint whose kids have their blood ascending in lead levels, their brains are damaged for the rest of their lives. Call them elitist." (1)

Now trade out “climate change” for “education”.

When I was starting out as a teacher, I learned that a number of my students were being privately tutored. It isn’t about your teaching, I was told. They just need the extra support at home. 

What I heard instead was: Despite your best efforts, your work with this student is not enough.

The best teachers strive for excellence in teaching. By nature, most of us are invested each day with heart and mind. This is why we tend to be our own worst critics.... Yet the temptation to listen to our inner self-critic is indeed a “pernicious” endeavor.

Enough with the pretending. We all know class size matters more than we give it credit for and the LA Teachers Strike makes that point loud and clear.

So many thoughts cross my mind when I have parents and students in my office complaining that a teacher is mean. And the description, while a wholeheartedly simple term, has become weaponized in schools today. Much like the word “yell”, the word “mean” can be interpreted in so many ways, all of them subjective.

Yet these gifts are not in response for the moments that matter most to the young life of a future adult: those moments of breakthrough when a teacher reviews a student’s paper one-on-one. Those moments of identification when a teacher accompanies a student vocalist. Those moments of observation when a teacher puts Little Women into the student’s hands, saying, “I think you might really connect with this book, so here, take it.”

This is where modern society gets it wrong: our tendency to bubble-wrap our children generates precisely the opposite result of its intent because at some point those bubbles will be popped and the coddled child will lack the strength to push forward. His underdeveloped wings will not support his heavy body. His stomach will not tolerate the food in front of him.

That’s right. Along with allocating money toward schools, we should also be investing our time and attention on ways to compound the valuation of social capital in our schools. We sense it when schools do this well, as they convey a strong sense of community.

I bring up the subject of the inner world of students because being allowed access is one of the key privileges we have as teachers. Relational teachers understand that each student is a product of their environments and their individual life experiences.