Teachers are Miracles.

There is no f*cking way that I can do this again for an entire year.

I've spoken these words every June for the past 11 years. And yet, every August I've managed to return with the blind hope and enthusiasm that accompanies a fresh start. 

A school is this very strange place where a group of adults, generally without proper training, have to show up every day to keep an army of small humans who lack a fully-formed frontal lobe alive. 

Teachers, along with so many others in public service careers, are a testament to human resilience.

I both marvel at and hold great disdain for the miracle that is teaching within a seemingly unfixable education system that reflects our dysfunctional society. We struggle to retain teachers, making it impossible to build towards actually successful reform. Politics continues to infiltrate corners of the world  it doesn't belong so the only hope for school improvement is in grassroots movements spearheaded by disenchanted staff members huddling in the teacher's lounge. 

I've noticed two types of educators over the years: 

Those heeding a call, committed to working their ass off to fulfill what they believe is their assignment for this lifetime. Me. 

And those processing some sort of childhood trauma by seeking to find whatever was missing during their own school experience. Also me. 

Primary subconscious motivations aside, teachers who can balance the daily grind of overstimulation, overextension, and the impossible task of meeting students' needs (and their own) tend to find success longterm. Those who can't pull it off take their exit before they hit that prized five year sweet spot that we're told decides our fate. 

Many new teachers are set up for failure from the start because they seem to lack the understanding of one simple concept:

Teaching. Is. Not. Like. The. Movies. 

Cinema has failed us through a decades-long misrepresentation of the classroom. I do love me some Dead Poet's Society, so no shade there. But I've worked with teachers who left a secure industry job to transition to the Expansively Purposeful Experience of Facilitating a Classroom (!) that movies taught them exists only to find that...well...it's not real!

Sometimes I think the majority of the general public's dismissal of teachers (in addition to, you know, taxes and maybe the reality that we're not just babysitters and we will hold you accountable for your kid's bullshit) comes from the portrayal of this cushy experience that we see in movies and television:

...A group of no more than 16 respectful teenagers anticipating dialogue on a topic that's not-at-all-relevant to their lives while they sit quietly at their desks, legs crossed, backs straight, lips still, eyes eagerly darting from teacher to textbook to Slideshow Du jour as they become increasingly engaged in their teacher's wisdom!

That's not real!

...Every single hand willingly shooting towards the sky in unison as students wiggle in their seats with the anticipation of being called on first!

Never happens!

...A teacher smiles with satisfaction over the apparent shared intrigue for a subject so dear to her own heart. She finishes the titillating conversation with her class and instructs them to "Carry on silently with independent work." As she gingerly walks to her remarkably clear desk with just one stack of papers to grade, she looks out over her pride and smiles while sipping a still-hot mug of coffee, sits back in her seat, and...relaxes.

There is no such thing as relaxing!

Or hot beverages!

...A bell chimes and the seemingly-not-pubescent-at-all students, still enthralled with their lesson, look about the room caught off guard, as they slowly gather their belongings. They're not at all surprised that they've lost track of time again! 

Bahahaha!

If you walked into a classroom for the first time expecting this fairy tale, you are not alone. Most of us are drawn to this career by a tendency towards idealism and a desire to help usher in a better existence for humanity. But if you're one of those who got in it for summers off...please leave now. 

Seriously. 

Close out this tab from your browser. Open a new one. Start applying to jobs outside of the public service sector. If you continue on this path, you will become a mere shell of yourself while leaving the system worse off than when you arrived. 

To survive as a teacher, you've gotta know your why. Figure out what gets you out of bed in the morning - What will carry you through when it seems like the universe is against you and you have nothing left to give. 

It will feel like this sometimes.

You've got to have grit, stamina, authenticity, empathy, and the capacity to continuously find a sense of purpose in your work. But you also must learn how to prioritize yourself. For many of us service-oriented humans (recovering people pleaser, here!) this is not intuitive. 

So we learn to set clear boundaries...and maintain them. 

We recognize when we're stretched too thin. 

We say no...often. 

We cultivate a sense of community with our students and lean on likeminded colleagues.

We honor our time outside of work by leaving the school day at school when we close the door behind us and head to our car. 

We take the day off when it feels impossible to wake up and do it again.

We ask for help.

And if we can manage all of this and show up for work then we become, well, a goddamn miracle.

__________

It is mid-July and I'm finding it difficult to connect with my own why. It's hard to imagine showing up again for the long-haul in just six weeks. I'm struggling to understand how I get here every year and wondering if there is a way to avoid it.

Maybe I said yes a bit too often this past school year. 

Maybe I spent too many days unpaid helping after school. 

Maybe I got overly involved and allowed workplace gossip to occupy precious space in my psyche.

Maybe I tried to reach every single student when I should have focused only on those ready to meet me half way. 

I've learned that summertime for teachers is a time for healing. We absorb so much of our students' trauma while struggling to find time to process our own. Our energy is continuously depleted as our physical, spiritual, mental, and emotional limitations are repeatedly tested during the school year. The expectations of our role far outweigh the realities of human capacity, let alone an appreciation for what we do. 

And yet, I'll eventually find my reset, granted to me by the sweet solace the summer provides, and I'll return once again - stronger, softer, wilder.

I hope you do, too. 

Because you really are a miracle.

Elle

Sidenote: More recent films have caught on, by the way. I liked The Teachers' Lounge (2023) as a much more accurate portrayal of our lived experience. 

The relatability was anxiety-inducing but well worth it to feel seen. And a good reminder that doing the right thing is rarely the easier path but worth it for the greater good...for those of us who continue to hope.