As some readers will know, this past week was Teacher Appreciation Week. Since 1984, the National PTA has established one week in May as “a special time to honor the men and women who lend their passion and skills to educating our children.” Designed to help make sure that we all take a moment before the school year ends to thank those who teach our children, usually in a cute and fun way, this week typically features such things as cards, gifts from the Parent Association, and snacks or lunch set out for the school staff. In these unprecedented times, with schools being physically closed but yet very much open, with teachers and administrators having turned their curricula and teaching styles on their heads and with parents becoming virtual classroom assistants, teacher appreciation has taken on a whole new meaning.
Teaching has long been a crucial and rewarding career path, and yet the numbers of new, qualified teachers entering the field have been steadily dropping, particularly in the younger grades. There are many reasons for this, ranging from the lack of competitive salaries compared to those available in other areas, to the long, emotionally and physically draining hours, to the general disrespect often unfortunately displayed towards the profession. As a preschool director, I have seen this first hand. There is nothing more disheartening than after spending years studying, working and becoming an expert in your field, hearing it referred to as a form of “babysitting”—a “career” one has at age 12 without all the hard work, education degrees or expensive student loans.
As a teacher from a family of educators, I always tried hard to express my hakarat hatov to those who cared for and taught my children. From Chanukah gifts to end-of-the-year thank you notes, one each from myself and the child, I felt I had a good handle on the teacher appreciation front. But if this quarantine and the resulting “distance learning” has reminded me of anything, it is that appreciation is more than a note or a gift—it is respect for the person and the field. Teachers everywhere were asked, with little notice or preparation, to take their educational experience, their curriculum and their lesson plans and convert them into online learning programs—and they did it! Schools were asked to navigate hundreds of different households and create instruction schedules that could work for the majority of people—and they did it! My own morot were asked to take a preschool classroom and early childhood needs and to blend them into Zoom sessions, prerecorded videos, printable worksheets, phone call “playdates” and suggested games and activities—and they did it!
Working with my own children’s teachers has also reminded me that they are experts not just in math, science, or english, but in children and their development and education. I spent years getting my degree and have continued to study, learn and take courses to keep up with the latest research and philosophies in order to provide the best educational environment for my students. My teachers and I spend hours developing curricula and units that teach not only the foundations of Jewish practice, math and language, but also how to be strong, confident, well-rounded human beings, all while wiping away the tears, snot and dirty diapers. I have worked and continue to work to become an expert in early childhood education, but that does not make me an expert in fourth-grade math, as my oldest son can very well tell you. Recently, he brought me a fractions problem that he did not understand, but which I easily solved and felt pretty good about—until he asked me to explain how I got my answer. After pausing for a minute, I said, “I don’t know… I just did the math.” Even from a distance, though, his teacher was able to give him a much better explanation and to identify and help him correct his error.
Our schools consist of a strong collection of educational experts who have been working hard during these strange and difficult times to continue to create an atmosphere of love and learning. So how do we show our appreciation for all the different teachers in our lives? One thing we can do is make sure that we are being patient with the schools, teachers and ourselves as we negotiate this unanticipated moment in history. Early on, I wrote to my parent body that we are not all preschool morot, or fourth-grade English teachers, or special service/early intervention providers, or party planners, or chefs, or cleaning crews, or police officers/lawyers/judges, or circus show ring leaders, yet at this time many of us are being asked to be many of the above—so let’s not worry if things are not always perfect. You can show your appreciation by remembering that even if your child misses some of the Zoom lessons or is truly struggling with the distance learning, we, the teachers, will be here to help. Take a moment to acknowledge the expertise required to effectively teach children of all ages and know that those experts are here when you need us—just as we always have been.
Morah Rue Taubes is a teacher at Gan Rina in Teaneck.
