First Reflection + Short Story

As I begin to read through Letters to a Young Teacher…

The best of teachers are not merely the technicians of proficiency; they are also ministers of innocence, practitioners of tender expectations. They stalwartly refuse to see their pupils as so many future economic units for a corporate society, little pint-sized deficits or assets for America’s economy, into whom they are expected to pump “added value,” as the pundits of the education policy arena now declaim. Teachers like these believe that every child who has been entrusted to their care comes into their classroom with inherent value to begin with. -Jonathan Kozol, Letters to a Young Teacher

Let me begin by briefly returning to yesterday’s story. I want to clarify something: I am not truly afraid of teaching. Rather, I am excited, and I anticipate a future of good things. My concern lies with the uncertain amount of time it will take me to become a fluid and confident teacher, a maker of differences in the lives of young people. I think of it like driving a car; before I got my license, I was terrified of entering onto the interstate — years later I can’t understand what had me so worried. But like my sister told me once, look at the people around you — if all of those knuckleheads can do it, there’s no reason you can’t do it, too.

When I think about some of the teachers I’ve met, I can’t help but comparing the situations. Of course, I’ve met some wonderful teachers, people with the talent and dedication of superheroes. But I’ve also met some men and women who either a) simply don’t understand young people and can’t relate, or b) don’t really care about real learning. If these people can carve out a (semi)successful career in education, there’s no reason a bright, invested young man can’t flourish with some practice and experience.

I recently started reading the book Letters to a Young Teacher by Jonathan Kozol (hence the quote above). If you’ve read anything by Kozol, such as Savage Inequalities or The Shame of the Nation, you probably don’t see him as a super “up-beat” writer. Letters, however, is a more hopeful book, in which he guides a new teacher through “the joys and challenges and passionate rewards of a beautiful profession.” I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right: this is exactly the kind of thing I want right now. Therefore, over the next two weeks, I plan to read a chapter (hopefully each day) and tell you all about it.

The first chapter, needless to say, is a bit introductory, so I won’t go crazy trying to reflect on it. He says his “thank you”s and tells “Francesca” (the intended recipient) that she’s going to do great, and so on. Let’s move on. From this chapter, I took a sense of mystery, compassion, and care that is required for good teaching. Kozol says that there is magic in teaching young children, and that you need to be in the classroom to see it, that others (education “experts” and politicians and pundits) can’t and won’t understand without experiencing that magic for themselves.

I actually had read the first several chapters previously, so I know the book is going to get a lot better (tomorrow). I just wanted to take a moment to return to yesterday’s story and set things up for the next couple weeks. If you’re still with me, I am grateful. Please take the following short-short story as thanks.