Teacher Appreciation

Nancy Hammer. Ms. Hammer. That’s the first teacher I remember who made a difference in my life. She taught 4th grade at Baywood Elementary in the 1980s. I was what we used to call a tomboy. At recess I could be found playing handball on the far left handball court reserved for the highest level of players, mostly 5th grade boys. Every so often, I would reluctantly participate in the choreography of a dance to Tiffany’s “I Think We’re Alone Now”. I was well liked and rarely loved, having the quality of fitting into most friend groups but never feeling part of any. I was a good but not exceptional student, creative but not an exceptional artist. I often had a funny comment to make at every turn. Most teachers found that very annoying. But Ms. Hammer? She saw all of these parts of me and not only appreciated my uniqueness but found ways to celebrate and highlight it. She smiled a lot. She valued the work of her students and our personhood. Being seen in that way helped me see myself and feel valued.

Aren’t those teachers the best? Just the absolute best?

We talk often of the teacher as a “loving authority”. What a masterful description of the work our teachers do. Not to wash over all of the practical, meaningful, and time-consuming work of research, curriculum development, lesson planning, material gathering, meetings, internal communications, parent/guardian communication, parent/guardian conferences, parent/guardian meetings, general classroom management, substituting, on and on. Wait. That’s a lot. Pause to celebrate that. Yay teachers. You are amazing!

Beneath the practical lies the type of work that makes a teacher someone whose smile you remember nearly 40 years later. What is a teacher who masters the role of being a loving authority?

The love is perhaps the most important part. Think of those you love - your family and some close friends. You love them out of a profound knowing of them, all of the good, bad and ugly. It’s a love that encompasses their wholeness, one that ebbs and flows yet somehow stays steady. It’s a love that sees the potential of their perfect and highest self but forgives the inevitable reality of their faulted being. It’s a love that wishes the best for them. This is the love that a teacher develops for their students and is the force that envelops the classroom each and every day.

Then we weave in the authority. Not the bad-word kind of authority but the kind of authority that provides a safe and nurturing environment with clear expectations so that the children can freely learn and develop. 

Consider the word ‘author.’ One who writes. 
I’m a New Yorker reader and one thing I notice about the profile pieces is that there are always several sentences reserved for describing what the person is wearing during the interview or their gestures and demeanor. It’s a brief pause in a greater narrative to just offer a judgment- free observation. This is the type of author our teachers are. They observe and collect those observations - tomboy, handball, jokes, drifter - and create a mental picture of the child. Those mental pictures are held with love, and through inspiration from those super-sensible places, the teacher can meet the child where they are, molding the lesson and the classroom dynamic to the beautiful cast of characters that make up the class.

The teachers also authorize. They are allowing the children to develop into who are they are becoming without an expectation of how that might unfold. Permission to be. Permission to explore, be curious, have setbacks, be tired, be upright, be rascally, be all the ways our children are. And within that authorization, walking that fine line of authorization and holding the form necessary for learning to be possible. 
 
Teachers. We see you. We see the investment of your whole selves that show up for the children each and every day. We are so grateful.

Get some good rest this summer. You deserve it. 

4th Grade Assignment:
Write an issue of TIME magazine about yourself.  
My cover (below).
​I haven’t changed a bit.