My kindergartners are all working productively at their learning stations and the room hums with quiet, respectful discussion. I’m standing in the middle of the room, observing our progress proudly. It’s early in the year to have our routine down and I’m happily taking it in.
I begin to notice a subtle change in the atmosphere of the room. The kids at the sensory table start throwing sand out of the box and onto the floor. At listening center, CDs are being fashioned into Chinese throwing stars. The kids in library begin tearing the pages out of the books, their eyes focused on me as if daring me to stop them. I try to walk over to address the situation and suddenly I realize my feet are tied with ropes!
The children start to gather around me, suddenly menacing with tiny hostile eyes, ragged clothes, dirty faces, chanting unrecognizable words (think…Lord of the Flies but younger). Two of the tiny terrors set a fire at the tips of my toes just as the door swings open. Who will save me? It’s my principal with her laptop ready for an unscheduled observation to collect data for my evaluation! At least I’ll score high in student engagement.
I wake up in a sweat. It’s the same recurring nightmare I’ve had each and every summer for the last decade and a half. I consider it an occupational hazard during the transition between summer and the school year.
To be honest, I contemplated leaving the classroom at the end of last year. It was not the first time. I’ve noticed a pattern in my sixteen year career as a classroom teacher. I seem to need to stop and take stock of my professional life every five years.
I had a challenging class last year. I was going to win them over and not let them beat me down but some days were rough and there were many days when I dwelt more on the losses than the wins. I was feeling at a crossroads and some opportunities outside of the classroom had presented themselves.
So I really considered options outside the classroom. I thought about what I might gain by leaving and what I would lose.
As the end of the year neared, one thought kept leaping out at me everywhere, it seemed. It was the Nelson Mandela saying, “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.”
And I realized…there is nothing more meaningful I could do with my life than teach. I make a difference every single day. It is my purpose – teaching is my way to change the world. It is what I want to do with my life. It is who I am! Yes, teaching is challenging, but great things never come easily. And if something doesn’t challenge me, it doesn’t change me.
I’ve always felt that the minute I leave the classroom I would lose a level of credibility and the feeling of a deep knowledge about students and issues in today’s classrooms. I would lose a level of “expertise” being removed from students and classroom life. Like Alaina, I like to be on the front lines of the #teacherarmy.
Like Donnie, I believe that a teacher can change the world for a student. It is always the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world who actually do.
Teaching is a life of standing for something. I’ll stay and live another year of my life standing for something greater than myself. I will not look back on my life and regret my time as a teacher. Teachers plant seeds of trees whose shade they will never sit under. I will not regret planting those seeds. Why do you stay?
Beth Maloney
I am in my twentieth year of teaching and enjoy every minute of my time in the classroom. I have taught kindergarten, third grade, and currently teach fifth-grade science and social studies in Surprise, Arizona. I am an enthusiastic public school advocate. I am a National Board Certified Teacher and a Candidate Support Provider for the Arizona K12 Center, where I coach and mentor other teachers undergoing the rigorous National Board certification. I am the past president and co-founder of the Arizona National Board Certified Teacher Network and president and founder of the Arizona Chapter of the National Network of State Teachers of the Year. I am honored to be Arizona’s 2014 Teacher of the Year and appreciate having the opportunity to represent the teachers of Arizona. I love talking with and learning from other teachers around the world. I strongly believe that teacher voice in the public education dialogue is the best way to make change for the better for all students.
Comments 4
I think your post captures what Milton Steinberg wrote in As a Driven Leaf, that to be happy one needs to know that their work will continue beyond them.
I love the way you lead from IN the classroom, Beth! I completely agree that one must stay IN the classroom to stay relevant with current issues. Things change so fast in education–those who leave the classroom are out of touch with a snap of the fingers! This #teacherarmy is ready to ROCK the front lines this year!
Warm thoughts to all the teachers like Angelia who actually experience this REAL LIFE nightmare on a recurring basis!
PS: My recurring teacher nightmare is finding out that they are moving my classroom! I’ve spent 5 years on my classroom environment for preschool students with autism: the walls are painted a soft sea green (to reduce glare), there’s velcro all over the room to keep dangerous writing objects velcro-ed high out of reach, there’s fabric curtains that I made to block the visual distraction of materials on shelves, and there’s my cloud light covers that I begged to get donated. The idea of moving is truly a nightmare! in my dream, I go around asking who is going to help me get the new room ready with all these accommodations
Great piece. It’s nice to know a state Teacher of the Year can have a challenging class that makes her question her next career move! I know I have had those classes. Perhaps we all have. The best thing about teaching is knowing that even on our worst days, we have the potential to postively impact each other. Love that.
My teacher nightmare involves me talking very very loudly and students swinging obliviously like monkeys from the pipes in the ceiling.