Teachers: We Don’t Deserve This

I know everyone has bad days at work, and maybe I should shut my mouth since I’m a teacher and standing one month away from a summer out of the classroom, but I recently felt the need to rant. Even after teaching in a high school for six years, some days I still get overwhelmed by the variety of tasks piled upon me.

Make sure you plan good lessons, but then spend twice that time fitting the lesson into a proper lesson plan for the administration to place promptly in a storage cabinet. Remember to reach all the different learners in your class, and also write individual assignments for the three students who have been absent for weeks due to issues you know nothing about. Use technology, but not too much. Be nice to your students, but not too friendly. Make sure you are assigning creative projects and assessments, but also make sure your students can achieve high scores on standardized tests.

I threw myself a good, old fashioned pity party and thought, I don’t deserve this. I really don’t deserve being asked to do ten things that are not part of my job description and for which I am not being compensated. I don’t deserve to be micromanaged. I don’t deserve being asked to be responsible for these students in such an intense way. I don’t deserve this.

Then I realized. I really do not deserve this. I don’t deserve to be the person who sets the tone for a kid’s day in homeroom. I don’t deserve to be the person to whom students come for reassurance when they doubt God. I don’t deserve to be the one who gets to help a child work through their parents’ divorce. I don’t deserve the opportunity to stand alongside my students in their struggles and accomplishments. I don’t deserve to share in their victories on the field, or their talents on stage. Yet, there I am: in the classroom, in the halls, on the sidelines, and in the seats.

When I think about my vocation as a teacher, I think about the Great Commission. I think about the command of Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel to teach others to obey everything he commanded, and his greatest command was to love. That commission is a privilege, but it does come with a cost. The cost of love is the emptying of self. Being a teacher is a cross. It means doing more than you need to, it means being obedient, it means being servant, and it means sacrifice. It is a burden, and there are many times that I get discouraged and want to lay that burden down. In those times I  remember that though it is a cross, it is also a gift. It is a gift to raise a student’s spirit. It is an honor to have been a part of someone’s accomplishments. It is a joy to go the extra mile even for the sake of one person.

Being a teacher is a difficult, amazing blessing, and I don’t deserve it.