Doing Better Things
When I graduated with my master’s in May, the English department at my college treated the MA students to dinner as a congratulations for finishing our thesis papers and the program. It was a really wonderful evening, and it really didn’t set in until last night that I’ve finished my Master’s. It feels good, but it’s also bittersweet. I have missed my classmates, and believe it or not, I have missed the work – the writing, the discussions, the reading… all of it.
It was nice, however, to share an evening with professors and classmates that was more social than scholarly. I was sitting next to Tim, of course, but also near my professors. They were extremely complimentary of my work, which was nice to hear. They were interested to hear about the conference at which I presented my thesis this July. They were also curious about what I will be doing now that I have my Master’s. I had expected this question; most teachers don’t get their Master’s in English unless they want to teach at a community college or go on to their Doctorate and teach at a university. What I didn’t expect was that one of my professors would try to persuade me to “do better things” – his words, not mine. He tried to persuade me so much, in fact, that the head of the department interrupted him and said, “Stop trying to persuade her to leave high school! We need teachers like her!” This topic wasn’t brought up again until the end of the night, as we were saying good bye. My professor shook my hand and said, “Please consider going on to do better things.”
The fact of the matter is that I could not think of a single, more important thing I could be doing with my life right now.
You see, there are assumptions out there about teachers, and sometimes, those who we think are the most liberal thinkers are the ones who hold on to these assumptions the strongest: We are mostly women who didn’t actually choose teaching. We were pushed into it by a patriarchal society. We were told our whole lives that we should choose a job where we work with people or nurture people, because that’s what women are supposed to do. And, of course, those of us who teach English or other humanities courses are doing so because we were not encouraged enough to pursue careers in math or science.
Some people truly believe that we couldn’t possibly be teaching high school English because we love it or because we feel at home in front of a classroom or because we have a passion for teaching. Or because we have a passion for English language and literature.
This isn’t a new concept. I’ve been getting the same line from people at least several times a year. “Do something important!” “You were meant for better things!” I’m here to tell you, right here, right now, that there is nothing better, nothing more important that I can do with my life.
Of all my choices – and I had many choices – I chose teaching. And every day I choose teaching.
That said, I hope this explains a bit why I started Equality 101, and why I believe so strongly in its purpose and mission. One of my major goals here, and one I hope I share with all of the writers and editors on staff, is to work to end the assumptions that teachers are either not good enough to do something else or that they’re just waiting around for something “better” to come along.
Have any of you ever had an experience like this? How did you handle it? How did it make you feel?
Hi, Ashley! Congrats on your master’s, what an accomplishment. 🙂
I’m a recent college graduate (middle/secondary education and English), and while I’ve received nothing but support from my family and teacher education colleagues, the critical commentary I’ve received has actually come from my peers. No, no, not other teachers or anyone in the education field, but my peers who studied business, law, the sciences (to name a few). As a very busy activist on campus, most of my peers only knew me in that capacity and never saw me as a classroom teacher. They would often (either implicitly or otherwise) imply that there were other “causes” that needed me more than education, or other places in the world
But my retort was always the same, “Such as? What are these causes?” I would be adamant in my reply that in my eyes, there is no greater, more universal cause than education. At the root of all my activist persuits, I found my place, my niche, the classroom. As a feminist teacher, I feel privileged. I feel honored that I can be an activist-teacher. That I can blissfully pursue the things in my life that I am most passionate about. That I can engage with other educational professionals, artists, activists, and activist educators. That I can, most importantly, engage with students in meaningful and important ways. That I can be a woman with others, a teacher for social justice.
I feel lucky. And privileged. And honored to know my vocation, my place in this world, “the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”
And I don’t think I could ever DO anything better than that.
You, your blog, and the people who write here have carved a dynamic, inspiring, meaningful, effective place for change.
(After all, it’s part of what got me through student teaching! And )
But in addition to those peers I mentioned above, I would also say the idea that “teachers are either not good enough to do something else or that they’re just waiting around for something “better” to come along,” comes from the media. Time and time again, in documentaries, television specials, tv shows, talk shows (ahem, Oprah’s “Waiting for Superman special”), so on and so forth, WE DON’T SEE TEACHERS AS STRONG AND EFFECTIVE AGENTS in educational reform. Sure, there are snippets here and there, but it’s largely administrators, business leaders, political players, and theorists, who are often at the centers of these discussions. I am not saying these roles are not important (because they are, everyone shares a part in this), but I believe they disproportionately represent the importance of teachers and speak to the low esteem teachers are sometimes held in. And I believe this culture of not listening closely enough to teachers gives people like your professor and my peers the cause to believe we could be “doing something better.”
Congrats, again!
And I have to amend my response to say that I don’t think it’s a coincidence that k-12 teachers aren’t held in the high esteem they ought to be AND that the demographics of the teaching profession are mostly women; likewise that the gender demographics of the voices we DO hear tend to be mostly men.
No, I don’t think those are ironic, or coincidental. And I think when our culture makes statements about the teaching profession, I think we are also making statements about the people who compose the teaching profession (minorities).
So perhaps that is something that needs to be part of the conversation, too.
Sorry, I got a little carried away!