A love letter to teachers

Hello!

Teachers have been so heavy on my mind for a few months now. I can’t shake it.

As part of my job, I have the privilege of training teachers in ABA and autism, observing children in the classroom in order to provide teachers with strategies for improving behaviors, and collaborating with school staff regarding therapies. I’ve loved it. It’s been years since I’ve been out of the public schools, years of my career that I cherish most. I could tell stories for days – remembering specific instances, joys, successes, failures, and lows. What I love most is that I still remember each face. The faces that taught me the most (maybe ones I feel I failed or was too inexperienced for) haunt me. They appear in my hardest times to remind me to do better, to keep thinking, to be more creative or “out of the box.”

I’m reminded again what a difficult job being a teacher is. I’m focusing on teachers as they have the largest ratio during instruction (I know it can be difficult for all staff as I was an overwhelmed-overworked-but-in-love-with-my-job SLP).

Over the past few months, I have been in awe of some of the teachers I have observed going about their day. I believe that when something is on your mind for a while, it’s meant to be shared.

Teachers, times have certainly changed and I believe that demands placed on you have exponentially increased without us (on the outside) realizing it. Not only do you have the job you signed up for but you now have to handle so much more – the repercussions of technology that has exceeded a child’s maturity level, helicopter parents, more children with special education in your regular education classroom (a great thing but it requires more training), changes in student culture (LGBT teens, transgender, transracial families, immigrants, etc.), fear (gun violence, consequences of the war on terror shown nightly on the TV), and brokenness in homes. You have become champions for causes, cheerleaders, counselors, special education teachers, advocates, social workers, and moms-away-from-home (with some of you actually adopting your students).

I’m in awe of your ability to “stay calm and talk it through.” Gone are the days of “I told you already” or “because I said so” and here are the days of teaching the emotional and environmental consequences of poor decisions so that we address social emotional health and answer those annoying “why” questions that teach way beyond your given curriculum. I’ve seen you have circle time for the wee ones and the older ones and you’ve asked each one “How are you feeling today?” and everyone in the circle waited for the answer. Did you know that for many, you are the only one who will ask them that question? I’ve watched you become open and honest with your students stating that their actions also made you feel sad and hurt.

I’ve watched so many of you teach your students to be good citizens of the world – recycling, acceptance of others, and volunteering or “giving back.” You sow a seed that won’t be reaped perhaps for years. But, you know it’s there. Thank you for your investment in their and our future.

I’ve seen you cry in team meetings because you feel that you aren’t doing enough although I’ve seen you do way more than anyone can comprehend. I’ve seen you try everything you know to do, ask for help and more training, and continue to struggle over “that one.” I’ve seen your eyes light up over baby steps toward bigger academic milestones – steps that would be easily go unnoticed.  

Some of you teach classes to a group of wide-eyed students hungry to learn the academics and English. I’ve watched you spend extra time and money to serve those students from immigrant families. You’ve filled in the gaps financially and with time. You’ve also taught the parents and advocated for them as well.  

I’ve watched you learn and embrace new cultures and religions. I saw you lovingly smooth a young girl’s bangs back under her hijab and tell her that she is beautiful. I know that you probably had to learn a lot about Muslim tradition in order to better support her in the classroom. This simple loving act spoke volumes.

I’ve seen you buy Christmas gifts for a family that would otherwise have no gifts under the tree. I’ve seen you sneak snacks into backpacks knowing that there are no snacks or “extra food” at home. I’ve seen you send home clothes for younger siblings that you’ve collected. I’ve seen you do this in a way that is honoring to the family and preserves dignity. You’ve been so slight and careful.

For some of you, I know that you can't have Jesus in the classroom visibly but we know He is there because you call on Him several times throughout the day - especially at the end of the day when students are going home to parents who cannot provide for them physically or financially or emotionally. You pray for them at night and on weekends. Your knees are worn from laying these burdens at the foot of the cross. We know you also pray to be more for them. 

I know that those outside the school life rarely understand your job. They see a job description that can sometimes seem “easier” than some jobs. They don’t see the longer list of things you do in the day that are not listed in the job description. Oh, and why are you complaining because you get the summer off and so many holidays? That’s stupid, we know. We are aware that you put in enough unpaid hours to fill those holidays and summers. You can sleep in the summer to make up for those sleepness nights wondering how  you’ll get needed supplies and books for your low-income students and how they will eat when the cafeteria is closed for the holiday and summer. I love that all of you that I know personally would have still pursued this profession had you been given the truth, the true description of what this job would call you to do and be. You would still say yes. We know you have the ability to most impact our future.

You create world changers.

Thank you for all that you do – seen & unseen,

Danielle

A few of my most favorite teachers: