Those Teachers

I’m in love with teachers. 

When sweet Miss Visser took me under her wing after I joined her kindergarten class halfway through the school year, it was love at first sight.  My mom, an artist and recently divorced with a new musician boyfriend, had moved us from place to place for a time, and we had just returned to South Haven. Mrs. Visser made life feel safe again.  Then when Mrs. Weiss, in the 2nd grade, took our class to her house for lunch, made us hot dogs, and let us pet her cute little dog, love bloomed anew.  I remember her saying, “Why Chris, you ate so much better here, finishing all of your hot dog.”  Mrs. Weiss paid attention to my eating habits and worried about me. 

Later in my schooling, Mr. Rutherford, my 7th grade science teacher, announced to the class that I’d outscored many on a big test over the periodic chart even though I had been out sick for weeks.  He jokingly shamed the class saying, “I don’t know what’s wrong you guys–Chris hasn’t even been here for the past two weeks and she did better than most of you.”  Mr. Rutherford noticed how hard I’d tried to stay on top of my studies, and I was so proud.  I loved how these teachers noticed me, recognized my strengths and, in short, took care of me.  I loved my teachers so much I wanted to be one. I wanted to be the kind of person who made children feel safe, loved, and celebrated.  I looked forward to being safely in their company forever, and I committed to a lifetime by their side.

Right after high school, I went to college, got my degree in education and started teaching English in a middle school.  That was twenty-nine years ago now.  In those twenty-nine years my adoration for this teaching breed of human has grown and deepened. Their intelligence, ingenuity, and never ending sense of humor in the face of adversity has been a mainstay of my working relationships with them.  As a newbie, I was protected by the patience and encouragement of those veteran teachers who poked their heads into my room to say, “So Chris, you remember grades are due tomorrow, right?” or “I baked cookies last night and I brought you a little plate.” and always with the praise “Oh, you’re so creative–the kids love you.”  That’s the heart of my fellow teachers, never stingy with love or a helping hand.

When I had a stroke at 44 years old, my teaching friends showered me with all sorts of love in the form of  a never-ending flow of casseroles, cards, flowers, and visits.  Not just quick visits, mind you.  Teachers really sit with you and talk.  They take walks with you even if you move very slowly and with a cane.  One teacher friend, an artist, planned a whole art experience for me.  She brought all the supplies to my house and fired the pinch pots back at her studio.  Another sat with me and led me in Chair Yoga to help strengthen my left side.  I remember yet another sweet teacher friend who noticed I was getting tired and suggested I lie down while she massaged my feet.  Who does that?  Teachers do that– because they truly know how to take care of people.

The sweet and tender nature of teachers makes it unbearable for me to witness what is happening in our world right now.  Teachers are being asked to deliver face to face instruction as the numbers of COVID19 infections soar. Many are told to deliver both virtual and in-person instruction with little or no support.  In some districts, teachers at the secondary level are also expected to sanitize their classrooms at the end of each class period, giving them no time for even a quick bathroom break. 

Recently, my fellow teachers have had to start doing the unthinkable–they’ve had to begin advocating for themselves.  These are people who would go to great lengths to demand what’s best for students, however they are not at all comfortable speaking up for themselves and their own safety.  I hear the quiver in their voices as they courageously speak up at a recent school board meeting.  I see my teaching friends break down in tears before the kids arrive in the morning.  I rush from behind my desk and stand powerless in front of them.  My natural inclination to hug them is not allowed, so I wait and I commiserate. 

Maybe as a result of teachers speaking up, others have started to refer to the teaching staff as “those people” or “them” with notable disdain in their voices.  Well, I know this for sure. I’ve never been more proud to be one of “those people”… one of “them.” 

Yep, I love teachers. https://youtu.be/YEjvMOWxQg8