An Open Letter to Teachers at the Beginning of the School Year

I started teaching (or tutoring actually) when I was 18 years old. During those early years, in addition to taking courses in teacher education including student teaching, I became a volunteer therapist working with autistic preschoolers, a volunteer teacher’s aide helping teach third graders, a lunch-room lady (really), and I worked summers running a recreation program for a park district. I worked a lot with kids.

When I was running that recreation program, one of the mothers cornered me, wanting to know how she could recognize if her child’s teacher was any good. I wasn't old enough to vote, and hadn’t actually started my first teaching job (though I had a contract). Like lots of guys that age, I was going to answer a question whether I knew the answer or not. I told her that she should notice whether the teacher paid attention to her child. If the teacher really knew her child, things would be okay. Of course, over the next few years, I wondered a lot about that question, and wondered how bad that answer had been.

Then I got to Delaware to work on my PhD, with Russell Stauffer, a real giant of the time in reading education. He was coming to the end of 50 years in education, and he required that I participate in his clinic, working with struggling readers. His first exam was kind of interesting: he wanted to know the color of eyes of the child we were working with. Of course, most of us hadn’t noticed, though we had tested the hell out of the kids to find out how well they could read. He then gave us the dickens for not paying attention to the kids. (Maybe my answer to that parent wasn’t as dumb as I thought).

Then I remembered Bobby. Bobby had been in my first class, a quiet child who blended into the woodwork. About a month into the school year, his parents came to see me. How was Bobby doing? I had no idea, I'd barely noticed him, and I suppose I bluffed my way through that meeting. But, from then on, I noticed Bobby a lot. His parent’s interest had sparked my interest. I wasn’t being a good teacher on my own —I wasn’t paying enough attention to know what Bobby needed— but his parents’ inquiry stimulated my interest and I did a better job with him after that.

There are a lot of things teachers need to know about how to teach and what to teach and how to assess, but all that works in the context of a caring, attentive relationship. When I was younger I would have said that you have to like all the Bobbys, but that isn’t really it. The professional relationship you have with a student doesn’t require affection, just appropriate attention. Successful teachers notice how things are going, what is needed, and they actively and individually get involved enough to help students to engage in learning.

And you can’t wait for parents to stimulate your interest, as some parents will never show up. So, this letter is my question to you: I know it is early in the school year, but how is Bobby doing? And Sara? And Miles? and all of the other kids in your class. Just know that tomorrow their parents are going to ask that question and you ought to be ready to answer--for the kids' sake, if not your own. Take a good look at them, and then teach them.

Have a great school year.