by Michael Wunder, Doctor of Pharmacy Candidate, Palm Beach Atlantic University Gregory School of Pharmacy
I spent every summer growing up reorganizing classrooms, putting up bulletin boards, and copying papers. I have helped grade papers in the fall, winter, and spring. I have cut out numerous shapes and laminated a million papers. I have broken down boxes and moved classrooms and closed classrooms. I have no idea what it means to be a teacher.
I have seen a child learn to read. I have seen a child learn to count. I have seen a teenager stand in class and declare that they understood Holden Caulfield. I have seen a teenager learn accounting. I have seen a teacher rejoice at each of these moments. I have seen a teacher hold a moment like these for the rest of their life. I have no idea what it means to be a teacher.
I have seen a child refuse to listen, scream, and throw crayons. I have seen a teenager throw a desk, stab another student, and then threaten the life of a teacher. I have no idea what it means to be a teacher.
I have seen the letters from parents praising a teacher for reaching their child’s life and encouraging their soul. I have seen the letters from parents threatening to sue a teacher because their child did not get enough attention. I have seen administrators and school districts turn their backs on their teachers. I have seen hours of lesson plans and curriculum meetings be tossed to the side because of the disruption of one student. I have no idea what it means to be a teacher.
I have seen a teacher cry in a classroom. I have seen a teacher cry at home. I have heard a teacher curse many a student and administrator too. I have heard a teacher whisper “I just don’t know what to do.” I have heard a teacher scream, “That’s it, I’m through.” I have no idea what it means to be a teacher.
I have seen a teacher cry when their student past a reading test they worked so hard for. I have seen a teacher smile when a student says “I’ll miss you.” I have seen a teacher laugh and feel true achievement as two teenage boys acted out … in Don Quixote. I have seen a teacher cry recalling when police took a student right out of his chair for murder. I have no idea what it means to be a teacher.
I have seen a teacher anticipate what their students might be like. I have seen a teacher clean up a party and say their goodbyes. I seen a teacher work a summer job to earn enough to pay for that rug they need for their reading center. I have seen a teacher stand in a field after graduation because a student wants that picture with their favorite teacher. I have heard a kindergartener say “I love you and I don’t want to have another teacher.” I have seen the letter from a death row inmate who was pulled from his chair in class that says, “Miss, I am sorry for interrupting your class. You were the only one that ever cared.”
I have no idea what it means to be a teacher.
[Editor's commentary: I think this essay by Michael Wunder says it all. -S.H.]
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