I have a confession to make.
My lessons aren’t always fun.
My lessons aren’t always fun.
In brief: When teachers make mistakes in front of their classes, it may seem like the end of the world. Haunting nightmares of a teacher’s mistake may keep him or her awake at night, but it shouldn’t. Here’s why teachers should embrace their mistakes.
Sooner or later, every teacher–with blessed few exceptions– will have to deal with a bully, and not the grade seven bully stealing chips from kid lunch boxes. But an adult bully, experienced and educated, dressed in fine clothes. A fellow teacher.
This post aims to inform teachers about the reasons for bullying in teaching and offer solutions for any teacher dealing with a bully.
Warren Buffet, the famous business magnate, investor, and philanthropist, asked a provocative question documented in Alice Schroeder’s biography of his life, Snowball:
Lookit. Would you rather be the world’s greatest lover, but have everyone think you’re the world’s worst lover? Or would you rather be the world’s worst lover but have everyone think you’re the world’s greatest lover? Now, that’s an interesting question. “Here’s another one. If the world couldn’t see your results, would you rather be thought of as the world’s greatest investor but in reality have the world’s worst record? Or be thought of as the world’s worst investor when you were actually the best?
Frowning and stressed over a pile of student essays, Mary wrings her clenched hands and searches her desk drawers for another working red pen. Had all of them died already? Within only four hours of marking? “Oh, well,” Mary thinks to herself. “I’ll stop by the dollar store to get some on my way home from school.”
At 6:30 PM, she pushes the school doors open and says her goodbyes to the night custodian as she scrambles to her car, shoving the unmarked essays in the back seat—her hated companions for the night and the next morning.
Teachers face disrespect; facing disrespect is tiring; disrespect causes some teachers to burnout and leave teaching. These are stories of real teachers and the disrespect they faced. Their names have been changed to protect their identities:
When I began teaching years ago, I entered the profession with dear friends, people I knew to be the most resilient, kind, and ambitious. Within six years, half of these friends had left the teaching profession burnt-out, tired, and bitter.
Research across countries shows us that teacher attrition is generally higher than in many other professions, with attrition among teachers cited as affecting 30-40% of our profession.
If you’re a frequent reader of the news, you will likely agree with me that the conversation about teaching in the last few years has been telling.
With headlines such as “Teacher Stress is Killing My Profession” (CBC), “Overwhelmed Canadian Teachers are Quitting in Droves” (The Epoch Times), and “Frustration. Burnout. Attrition. It’s Time to Address the National Teacher Shortage” (NPR) circulating the press, we know these are troubled times in teaching.
As a kid, I went to Poland every summer to visit my family. My cousins and I would drink plum compote on my grandma’s porch, throw corn nibs at chickens, harvest potatoes in the field and then fry them into the best French fries we’ve ever tasted, jump into the local ice-cold creek and play harmonicas.
Interspersed between these country pleasures and mischief was talk of school. Our parents—although or perhaps because they had been born in a small village in poverty—valued education more than anything. And so, it was natural that my cousins and I would talk of what we were reading in school. These conversations went something like this:
Sometimes former students come visit me in my classroom. These visits are always welcome, but in one case, somewhat unwelcome. One of the students who has came to visit had once –mid-semester—asked to be transferred out of my class.
The Pain of Blame
The student who had asked to be transferred out of my class did so while we were going over the basics of grammar—sentence structure, capitalization, and comma usage, and for him, grammar was hard. His marks were falling. He had never gotten below an “A” in English. I was too hard, too demanding, and the classes weren’t as much fun. So, he decided, it was time to drop my class.
Bent on protecting their son from failure, disappointment, and boredom, his parents set up meetings with my principal. Behind closed doors, the parents and the principal debated the issue of moving classes, until the student was told to stay. So, he remained seated, upset and resentful, in my classroom.
The whole thing was awful.