A broken road

I sit in my classroom and look around. The shiny faces of my students working hard is all around me. I love them. Every last one of them. I am new to the profession of teaching. New as in being this is my second year as a teacher, but not new as in life. I am an older start at a second career. I am older than most of the beginning teacher. Life has helped shaped how I interact with my students.  This has helped me to  understand my students and the world around me.

I am entering this profession at an interesting time. I am not sure if I will make 30 plus years like my fellow teachers. I am hoping to make it 10 or more. I am desiring this to be my lifelong commitment to a job. The teaching profession is no longer an esteemed profession.

We are looked down upon.

We are blamed.

We are not understood.

We are expected to do more for less money.

We are expected not to complain and if we do, then we are replaced.

I fall in line. I understand my role. I test and test. Not because my principal wants me to, not because my superiors downtown want me too, but because Washington wants me to. Let’s face it. It all boils down to the big boys up in our government. They make the decisions.

They don’t care about me.

They don’t care about my individual students.

They care about a bottom line.

They care about how we are doing compared to the rest of the world.

They don’t care about the milestones that are not on a piece of paper. They don’t understand the achievements that aren to achieved on a test.

There are many teachers leaving. There are thousands of blog posts on that. There are blog posts on blaming someone for the failures of the education system.

Honestly, I am not sure where the fault begins or ends. I know it’s not completely the teachers or the parents. Where do we begin to repair a system so badly broken?

There are no easy answers to hard questions. Hopefully, we figure it out soon.

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