Perfect Teachers

I had a tour last week with a very weepy new kindergarten Mom. In the fall, her daughter will be at “big school” (her words) for the first time. Her daughter has attended a 2 day a week Mommy’s Day out, has never spent one night away from her Mom, and has some health concerns. At one point, I grabbed her hands and I looked her in her eyes and I told her that we understand that parents give us their most precious gifts every single day and that is a trust that we don’t take lightly.  In fact, we take that very seriously. I told her that, as a parent myself, trusting others would take care of my children the way I would, was even hard for me-and I am an educator. In fact, the first time Rosebro1 went to kindergarten here at JBE, I cried…and I was in the building all day.  How must it feel to the parent who drops their child off and drives away for the first time? 

I went on to tell that mom of some of our security and supervision policies. I explained fire drills and lock down drills. I explained our policy of handling discipline but focusing mainly on what students do right. I told her about our teaching pedagogy (because as you would know….her child is already gifted). I explained about field trips, our full-time school nurse, and our guidance counselor who is always there to support students with anxiety and separation issues. I told her about our authorized pick up list and our precautions in car line. 

Then, I told her the real truth. That even with all those measures that we practice and we preach and we go over in every faculty meeting, we will at some point in her daughter’s six years here, fail her. It may be that I forget to call her name on the loud speaker when she earned recognition. Her teacher may forget a parent conference or an email may go unanswered. I told her that another student will probably say something unkind to her daughter and the teacher will not notice. I told her that she may get served the wrong meal in the cafeteria. I told her that our teachers are human beings. I told her of something that I had done recently that was simply a mistake. It hurt a child’s feelings. I told her what I did to make it right. I told her we do all we can to avoid them, but I wasn’t going to lie to her and tell her that anyone in this building was perfect.

She started crying more.  I thought I had really made a mistake. Then she told me about dropping her daughter on her head when she was just a few months old.  Her crying turned to laughter as I detailed the story of me breaking Rosebro1’s nose when he was 8 months old or the time I was helping Rosebro2 after a bee sting and ended up slamming his hand in the car door. After a few minutes, she stopped her crying/laughing and asked for a registration card. She said she was not going home to think about it because I was the first principal who was honest with her. She said, “I am not a perfect parent. How can I expect a perfect teacher?’  I reminded her that here at JBE she will come close to having some perfect teachers-albeit nowhere near a perfect principal- but that any mistake a teacher makes is NEVER done to harm a student.

You see this week isn’t Perfect Teacher Appreciation Week. It is simply Teacher Appreciation Week. But there is nothing simple in terms of appreciating a teacher. My first-year teaching, I had an IEP meeting with a parent and discussed a child that didn’t belong to the parent.  Now, I am unsure why the mom didn’t stop me when I kept referring to her son, Christopher, as Demarcus, but I had the entire IEP meeting- Cognitive, testing scores-the whole works with the wrong parent.  Just imagine how that went when upon her way out the door, my principal asked me why Christopher’s mom was here for a meeting and I realized what I had done.  I made a mistake.  I am less than perfect, but I beat myself up about that for years. To this day, I probably make parents feel awkward the number of times I use their student’s name in a meeting. I am paranoid of making the same mistake twice. I learned from that mistake. I learn from the ones I make now. I continue to grow.

You will never be a perfect teacher. AND that is okay. You are appreciated anyway.  I learned after my Demarcus/Christopher debacle that no one wanted to hear my pity party. My principal was done talking to me about it the day it happened and that is when I became a reflective teacher.  Greatness always starts with reflection. In fact, a pity party helps self-doubt creep in-and we need confidence to do this job.

I tell you all this today to say even with your imperfections, even with your mistakes, even with your self doubts, you are appreciated. You are given the greatest trust by our parents and 99% of the time you do it flawlessly. And some of those 1%’s are big, terrible, and sometimes plain dumb mistakes, but you’re still appreciated.

You are appreciated for the hard work you do each day in your class, for every parent phone call afterschool, every meeting afterschool-RTI, IEP, Parent meetings, committee meetings, for every difficult student you’ve learned to love, for every field trip, every assembly, every program, every evening you’ve graded papers or worked on lesson plans, for every moment you took away from your own family to attend to a student or our school, for every early morning duty, and car duty in the pouring rain, snow or temps below 20, for every sleepless night worried about school, and for every minute during those summer months working on school.  You. Are. Appreciated.  

Our PTSO, and we are lucky to have them, will spoil you this week as your waistband expands after every delicious meal, breakfast, and treat prepared for you. Duty free lunch-and if you're not a teacher you just can't understand- is so very rewarding. The little gifts, notes, hugs, pictures drawn are heartfelt. But I hold your hands, look you in the eye and tell you the truth---you are appreciated.