Mrs. Brown, Should I Become a Teacher?

It is the end of a long school day when two former students enter my classroom smiling. My eyes are burning. When not instructing, I have been reading thematic essays. I probably need new eyeglasses, but my health insurance does not cover much of that expense. I want to keep grading because there is dinner to make and kids to cart, but these students came to see me — eagerly and optimistically seeking my advice.

Student: “I don’t mean to interrupt you while grading.”

Me: “Please, interrupt me!”

Student: “I have been thinking about becoming a Social Studies Teacher, what do you think?”

What do I think? My eyes are burning. My desk is a disaster, overflowing with papers. I have not consumed enough water today. Have I urinated today? What does my lesson plan for tomorrow look like, did I plan it well? How am I going to save those ten students who are at-risk for failure? Why is the number always ten? Did I return that parent’s email? Do I have enough money saved for summer expenses? Am I going to have money for my daughters’ college?

What if public education becomes even more underfunded? What will happen to public schools under the current presidential administration? Will you have a job, kid? Will you have a guaranteed retirement pension? Will you need to move away from Syracuse, only to teach in a place where unions and tenure do not exist? Will you love the job as I do? Will it consume you?

Of course, I keep my thoughts to my self. Instead, I listen intently while his bright face answers my queries. I search for the best questions because I want to leave an impression.

• “Do you enjoy kids and adolescents?”
• “Do you love the study of history (or any other subject)?”
• “Teaching is manual labor, are you willing to dig ditches, clean up after other people, and work?”
• “Do you know that you will probably need to work in those summer months, at least in the beginning?”
• “Can you break down big ideas so that others comprehend?”
• “Are you prepared to feed your students — both literally and emotionally?”
• “Can you act? Do you have dramatic skills?”
• “How long do you want to teach? Will it be a career or a stepping stone?”
• “Do you think teaching is the same thing year after year?”

He answers authentically. He tells me that his mother has asked him similar questions. He is also contemplating becoming a physical therapist. My other student chimes in and announces that he wants to be a physician assistant. It is getting late, so I pack up the ungraded essays into my bag, knowing full well that I will not have the energy to face them after dinner.

As I walk out of the school with these two exceptional young men, I wonder why I hesitated to champion the profession that has brought me so much joy and stability? Don’t I want dynamic individuals like him to become future teachers? Why have some of my colleagues discouraged their college-aged children from entering teaching? Would I recommend the job to my daughters? Of course, I know the source of anxiety to such a simple question from a student.

[bctt tweet=”why did I hesitate to champion the profession that has brought me so much joy and stability?” username=”EducatorsRoom”]

My hesitation is grounded in the realities of teaching. Especially since the beginning of the Great Recession, teaching has been attacked and stereotyped. Although I still believe in my purpose, I am disillusioned by the system. Although I have benefited from the system, I still want it to change. Although I wish the best young minds to choose to teach, I fear the trajectory of their careers.

So, the short answer to my student’s question is: yes, maybe.