Sugar, spice, snails, puppy dog tails

Memories of another life

I have told many people that I don't miss teaching, but I lied. I do miss teaching; I don't miss the morass called public education. Over the nearly twenty-five years I spent in the classroom, plus the nearly ten years before when I was acquainted with the education system only as a parent, I became aware of the lack of learning in many classrooms, the politics involved in public education, and the misguided fads that invaded and conquered administrations, school boards, and teachers.

I watched parents become more interested in their own career and social ambitions turn from their children's well-being and demand that schools become parents without authority or power. Some way, teachers were to impart knowledge to students who refused to study, who spent more time working a job than resting or studying, who wanted to visit and socialize during classes, and who did not respect any authority, much less a teacher. Parents attacked teachers who expected students to meet deadlines, to do their own work, to be in class with needed materials, to be attentive during lessons (or at least quiet so that others could learn). Teachers were fawned upon and rewarded who allowed students to do as they wished, who provided ample 'play' time (in high school), who gave students unending deadlines, and who were buddies to their students.

Schools became daycare centers rather than institutions of learning. Parents decried the intrusion on 'their' time: generalities, yes, but a tendency that continues to grow.

Ah, I am so thankful that the whole story is not black and discouraging. My memories also include the students who wanted to learn, the parents who wanted to help, the administrators who bucked the fads, the teachers who kept fighting to teach, the former students who returned to thank a teacher who was 'hard' and set standards and wouldn't allow students to 'slide' and not to succeed.

Yes, I miss the teaching because teaching is a part of me. To deny that instinct would be to cut a hole in my heart and mind; I couldn't live long. Those writers on stories.com who have received some of my reviews know I still mentally have my red pen in hand, not to discourage, but to point out areas of grammatical problems or to give suggestions for improvement. I love to see people learn and grow and become better. That idea, to me, is the definition of a real teacher.

Viv

Sugar, spice, snails, puppy dog tails  (ASR) Jots of thoughts as they flit through the rummage of my mind. #551218 by Vivian