One of the routine questions I ask my college English classes is, “Who plans
to be a teacher?”
I laughingly tell those who raise their hands that they can
be my “special helpers.” It’s useful to have students at the ready to hand out
copies, record lists when we brainstorm, put out the lights when we use the
projector.
Yes, even some tough, abundantly tattooed, facially pierced college students want to be the teacher’s
special helpers. Especially if there is a whiff of extra credit in the air.
This year has been different.
This semester, for the first time, when I asked about future
teachers… not one student raised her hand. In any of my classes.
“But who is going to teach the children?” I asked, lightly.
Were the future teachers too shy to declare themselves?
Now that I have repeated the question several times over the
course of many weeks, I’m starting to worry.
When I asked for a bit more information about why students
aren’t considering the teaching profession, first the incredulous stares spoke
volumes. A girl in the front row, a smart student, a hard worker, pulled back
from me as if I was contagious. A male student in back looked me over as if I
was promoting a bizarre religious cult.
A woman in the second row stammered, “Bbbut Ms. Bruce—teachers
don’t make enough money! I have two kids!”
A 35 year-old male Marine Corps combat veteran spat, “Teach?
No way! I don’t think they’d appreciate the discipline I would want to give!”
That got a round of chuckles.
“My high school was awful—most of the teachers could care
less if we learned anything. All they cared about were the EOG’s” (end of grade
tests).
“Yeah, my little sister failed her last EOG’s and they
pushed her on to the next grade anyway. That was stupid. She wasn’t ready to be
promoted.”
“No Child Left Behind ruined everything. My mom’s a teacher
and she said she’d kill me if I ever decided to teach. She’s counting the days
to retirement.”
“But many of you have children!” I said. “Aren’t you worried
about who is going to teach them?”
“Heck, yes, I’m worried,” said a 30 year-old mother of
twins. “But it won’t be me. I don’t need that kind of abuse.”
A friend and fellow blogger who works at a school in California recently vented
her frustration. “Most of the teachers are 'retired,' but the worst of it is…
they are still 'working' in the classroom. They show up in body, but expend the
bare minimum energy to teach.”
I’m certainly not trying to indict my fellow educators. I’m
on the same team! They often have a thankless job. Many of them are doing the
best they can. No one got into teaching to be rich or famous. But at least
there used to be the prospect of a modicum of respect from students, parents,
administrators, the local community and even by elected officials. Teachers were not seen as leeches on the system, adversaries to “balanced
budgets.”
For some teachers, the grind year after year with little or
no support from administration or parents, turned once enthusiastic new teachers
into burned-out shells. The dropout rate for new teachers is sky-high.
Nowadays, even college students who I see excited about
learning and are enjoying our class, wouldn’t
dream of teaching as their profession. I’m running out of time to try to change
their minds.
Who is going to teach the children? Does anyone know?
