A Tale of Two Teachers—Why They Stopped Teaching
“I reached the point that I met the class each day with dread, and I knew it was time to leave.”
FOR decades educators have attempted to find a solution to the problem, “Why Johnny can’t read.” Meanwhile Johnny, armed with “See Spot run. Run, Spot, run,” embarks on the arduous task of conquering the printed page. Too often Johnny meets with early defeat at having a change of two or three teachers his first year. So, while Johnny is struggling with “See Spot run,” educators are confronted with “See teacher run.” And also, “Why can’t teacher teach?”
What is happening in the educational field? Why are experienced, dedicated teachers leaving the profession for other careers? I, too, was asked that question, having left the teaching profession more than 10 years before retirement.
The Way It Was
I came from a family line of teachers. As a child playing school with my dolls I looked forward to the time when that row of rag dolls, teddy bears and china faces would come alive in my own classroom. Eventually they did, in the form of third-grade boys.
My teaching career began three months after the school year had begun, and I was the third teacher the class had had. This they triumphantly announced to me, one little voice piping up, “We chased the other two away.” I ignored his comment and began engaging them in conversation about themselves, which immediately revolved around their pets at home. I listened as each pet’s antics topped those of the previous one. Finally I asked one little boy, “When your dog jumps up on you and wants to play, but you don’t want to play, what do you do?”
“Oh, I just push him away.”
“But, what if you pushed him away and he never came back?”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because he likes me!”
In a voice just above a whisper, I said: “You know something? After listening to all of you, I just know I’m going to like you, too. I’m going to be just like that puppy. I’ll let you push me away once in a while; but, because I like you, I won’t let you chase me away. O.K.?”
In that moment I won them. That was in the early years following World War II.
As with all teachers, I had my favorite subjects to teach. Chief among them was “The Rise and Fall of World Powers” in sixth-grade social studies. I was amazed at how closely the textbook coincided with Bible history. Even the Teachers’ Annotated Edition of our textbook Living in the Old World suggested having the pupils read the story of Nebuchadnezzar and his dream from Daniel, chapter 2, concerning the rise and fall of world powers.
Those were happy days, and teaching was a joy. The time flew by and more than a decade had elapsed when I left the classroom to become a mother.
It was in the late sixties when I returned to the classroom. The joy that I once had in teaching should now be greater, as now my own child was in school. But things were different!
The Way It Is
The lack of respect on every level was appalling. Certainly there was little respect for teachers by students; but, the same attitude was reflected often by young teachers toward principals. Discipline that had once been so easily maintained was now almost unattainable. I gasped in sheer disbelief at expletives that rolled glibly off 11-year-old tongues. Soon I reached the point that I met the class each day with dread, and I knew it was time to leave.
I decided to interview former teachers and principals with whom I had taught. Also former students, many of whom were now parents of school-age children.
Discipline, or more correctly the lack of it, ranked highest among complaints. One teacher commented: “You feel you have a successful day if you can walk from one end of the hall to the other without getting involved in a skirmish.”
Their assessments as to the reasons for discipline breakdown varied, but all cited “lack of respect for authority” as the chief reason. One principal observed: “Many children learn before entering school that their parents have no respect for government, and many do not believe in a God. So, to the child the parents represent the highest authority. When children have no respect for their parents, where does that leave us, the teachers?”
I asked a current teacher with more than 25 years’ experience how much emphasis can now be placed on moral values. She noted that the younger teachers did not view the matter as the older teachers do, and the experienced teachers have to tread lightly for fear of bordering on the religious aspect. One made the remark: “When prayer was taken out of the schools, we teachers didn’t have a prayer.”
Many feel that the lowering of the dress-code standards was the death knell of discipline in the schools. An interesting comment was: “Then they began to think in the same manner as they dressed. When we thought it could get no worse, then they began to dress in the same manner as they thought.” Almost all teachers agreed that “the better the appearance, the better the student.” One teacher mused: “When they slouch in their seats in dirty blue jeans, with the top nine buttons of their shirts unbuttoned, you get the impression that the faces staring back at you reflect something short of eager anticipation for learning.”
The Way It Will Be
While these comments are negative, this is not to say that all students are rebellious. I must say to those dear ones who are a joy to their teachers: “Because of you, there are still teachers. You are all victims of a changing world.” A former student summarized: “In the early sixties the world was like a gyroscope that had lost its balance, and it has been reeling ever since. It makes you wonder whether it will ever regain its equilibrium.”
I was reminded of my sixth-grade social studies teaching of the march of the world powers, their rise and fall down to the present one—which is certainly reeling. How grand it will be when this one, too, gives way to the one not mentioned in current history books—the kingdom of God under Christ Jesus—but which is highlighted in man’s oldest textbook, the Bible. Then teaching again will be a joy.—D. B.
“It was time to stop trying to sweep back the tide of indifferent parents, apathetic teachers and neglected children.”
WHEN I graduated from a southern high school in the early 50’s, students still held their school principals and teachers in high esteem. There was maximum discipline in the classroom, and the very worst misdeed was committed by a few boys who sneaked behind a bush to smoke a cigarette. We were unaware of the problems that New York city already faced, until the movie “Rock Around the Clock” shocked us in disbelief. This kind of violence and disrespect could never happen here!
Over the years I continued to read of the growing rebellion of young people, and was so concerned that when my first child entered school, I decided to enter also as a teacher. There I could keep a finger on the pulse and have a voice in the educational system.
During the six years that I taught, I learned that many disappointing changes had taken place. Principals were all but stripped of their authority. They had no control over their personnel. The Board of Education sent them the teachers and they had to accept them. If a teacher proved unqualified in any or every way, the principal could do nothing. Many of our “old-fashioned” dedicated teachers retired and their replacements were unbelievable. Many of these teachers spoke a very poor quality of English—street vernacular. Some openly carried on feuds with other teachers and manifested their narrow attitudes on ethnic and religious issues.
Part-Time Parents
Over 90 percent of the mothers of children in our school—with kindergarten through seventh grade—worked outside the home, and at least 50 percent of these were broken homes. Many parents dropped their children off at school one hour before the doors opened so that they could get to work on time.
I also discovered that my students never had the opportunity to converse with adults. Their parents talked to them but not with them. Apparently, I was the only adult who ever listened to them and praised them. When I could arrange conferences with the parents—the few who ever came to the school—I encouraged them to spend at least 30 minutes in the evenings listening to their children, asking them how their day went, what happened in school, and so on. Many of these children of working parents saw them only two hours in the evening on weekdays, and some parents worked shifts that narrowed that time down to two days a week, the weekends.
Class Clowns from Broken Homes
I found that the class clowns or class disrupters were from broken homes and in the empty-house group. They just needed love and attention and did anything to get it. They were fiercely loyal to their parents and did a lot of bragging about them. I sensed that they were saying: “I want my parents to be what I am saying they are.”
Another thought: In the home, rules made by the parents were never enforced. As a result, the school rules were taken lightly because the children thought the school would not enforce its rules either—which was often true.
I never attempted to teach in high school. There have been several shootings, stabbings, rapes and daily occurrences of stealing and drug-pushing in the school buildings. Security officers are necessary in most of the high schools. But the educators and school police look the other way as far as the constant use of marijuana goes. Some students, in fact many, stay “stoned” most of the school year.
When I became frustrated and exasperated each day at school, bringing home my desperations, I knew it was time to stop trying to sweep back the tide of indifferent parents, apathetic teachers and neglected children. I quit the teaching profession and used those hours to fulfill my duties and privileges with my own family. Now I have time to teach a more rewarding and satisfying subject—God’s new system under Christ Jesus, the answer to all of mankind’s problems.—S. F.