Nancy Flood wrote this article 35 years ago when she was a young teacher in Springfi eld School District 186. She says if she were teaching today she’d want to say the same thing.
Dear students, I’ve been welcoming you to my class for 13 years now and somehow the beginning of a new school year never gets any easier. I suppose I should feel polished and professional as I stand before you, explaining rules and outlining expectations. Not that I feel unsure of myself. I’ve had too much practice to feel nervous, too many years with you to feel unsteady.
But I sometimes wonder if any of us – teachers or administrators – knows what we’re doing. We’re good at making rules, devising testing procedures, making assignments, checking papers and referring you to an endless stream of psychologists. But are we good for you?
Can we really expect one teacher, with all her human faults and problems of her own, really to be able to determine the needs of 25 or 30 children? How will I really be able to know each one of you? Oh, I’ll know some of you very well: those of you who insist on making yourselves known through unacceptable behavior. What about those of you who behave well, generally do what’s expected of you and don’t cause problems? Will I be able to tell when you’re bored, sad, fearful, angry, feeling rejected? Sometimes, of course, I will. But how much, I wonder, do I miss?
And don’t forget, I have those same feelings, too. Sometimes I won’t want to be here with you. Sometimes I will feel like screaming. Sometimes I will scream! But I am a human being and imperfect just like all of you and I hope you will understand that.
Now, I think there are some things that are important for fourth-graders to know. You will all get the idea that learning the multiplication tables is supremely important. Good. I want you to believe that. I will insist that you learn the mechanics of the English language. This is important, too. We will practice long division until we are all sick of it. And I will expect your homework to be done. All these things are important. And yet, they constitute the easy part of what I want you to learn.
I want you to learn to appreciate and love good literature and good music. These things are a little harder to teach, but exposure and modeling will help. I want you to feel comfortable enough to ask any question, about any subject. If it’s a sincere question, I promise never to laugh or get angry. I want you to get excited about learning, so I will do many activities that are exciting to me, too. I want you to realize that the whole world can be a classroom, so I will plan trips that will expose you to various settings. I want you to know me as another human being, not just as a teacher or authority figure, so I will invite you to my home.
But, dear students, most of all I want you to learn to love, to be forgiving, to be kind to people and animals, to know that gentleness is strength, to know that you are important and that everyone else is, too, and there is, indeed, a purpose to life.
If I could teach you this, you would be truly educated.
Nancy Flood is retired from both Springfield School District 186 and Springfield Clinic. These days she spends her time writing, volunteering and working to support the Baha’i faith. She is also busily planning her October wedding.