Teacher Table Talk: The Irritating Nature Of Teachers Who Overstep (And Others Who Are Just Plain Rude)
Before I dive into this, let me just say that I enjoy being a teacher. I’m so blessed to be able to work in a rewarding field that allows me to do the purposeful work of pouring into the lives of children (or in my case, teenagers, as I teach at the secondary level). I work in a Title 1 school, and most of my students are Black and Hispanic and come from some challenging circumstances. I’m also one of the very few Black English teachers (there’s me and exactly two other Black specialists) working in our entire department. This speaks volumes about the lack of diversity in the field of education, and more specifically, the lack of Black educators. In recent years, I’ve noticed how the demographic of students I work with desperately need to see more teachers who look like them. But that’s another blog post for another time.
My eighth graders, whom I also refer to as my “work children,” are the best part of what I get to do. They’re smart, focused, funny, and driven. And before the first bell begins each day, many of them, even some students who are not my own, come visit me in the mornings to say hello, share air hugs (due to social distancing), along with stories about their family, friends, boyfriends and girlfriends, their grades, teachers they don’t like, and more. As they share, I actively listen. There’s a mutual respect that’s been established. My students know I respect them and genuinely care about them too. And while other teachers and parents who’ve noticed this have been encouraging about my approach, other teachers have been disapproving and have expressed that I should be “meaner” and “tougher” on them. Which I refuse to do. I have nothing to gain from being a mean teacher, and while I’m certainly not a doormat, I do believe you can connect with students in a safe and loving manner without creating a hostile climate they don’t want to be in.
My teenage work children are the least of my worries, though. They’re wonderful. However, it’s the adults who act like teenagers who sometimes disrupt the day-to-day flow.
Whether it’s a seasoned teacher who assumes I don’t know how to do my job (because of my age, my race, my credentials, and years of teaching experience that don’t add up to their own) or other teachers who believe that the best way to manage middle school students is to rule their classrooms with anger, aggression, and fear or teachers who are more preoccupied with spilling “tea” about other people’s business that’s not their own, there’s always something. I’ve even watched different teachers antagonize students and then act shocked when, in return, their students clapped back at them. I mean, if you antagonize a teenager in front of a room full of their peers, what do you think is going to happen? If you have good relationships established with your students, everything else will eventually fall into place. I’ve also endured condescending comments about being so “young” (which is odd since I’m a 31-year-old grown woman). I’ve been ignored when presenting lesson plans and new ideas during department meetings. I’ve been ignored when I’ve tried to extend olive branches to colleagues I’ve wanted to partner and create lessons with. I’ve had some tough conversations with a handful of unfriendly teachers who have just been plain rude, mean, and unwelcoming to newcomers in the field like myself. And even when it’s been hard, I’ve chosen to be kind and cordial when others have been nasty and unprofessional. It certainly hasn’t been an easy season, but it’s not a dreadful one either. I’m always learning something new almost every day, I’m having some fun, and I’m choosing to focus on the good – even on the hard days.