A Note for the First Year Teacher as we Head into November

Hello first year teacher.  It's November. You have finished your first quarter and are heading towards the holiday season. I'm going to ask you some questions whose answers I already know.

Are you tired? Yes, of course you are. You've been putting all of your physical and mental energy into the last three months.

Were your kids chaotic because Friday was Halloween? Yes, of course they were. It's good that they'll do most of their sugar loading over the weekend, though.

Have you had a demoralizing parent conference? Probably so. It may be the only profession where they expect you to be just as skilled in your first year as you will be ten years later. But I hope you have had an encouraging one too.

Have you had a demoralizing conversation with an experienced teacher? Probably so. Some of them are burned out but aren't aware of it. But I hope you have had a lot of encouraging ones too. 

Being new to anything is hard. You don't have routines and past experience to help you shortcut your thinking, so your working memory is at capacity most of the time.

The good news is:  It gets better.  Some of it takes a while, but I promise it does get better. 

• Some things get easier quickly, as you learn the names of students and get more comfortable with your daily routines.  
• Some things get better incrementally as you are better able to notice oncoming issues and head them off at the pass. You learn better classroom management techniques and employ them with more deft. You develop more efficient grading routines.
• Some things take a few years. Hold on for year three.  That's when you will realize that your content and pedagogy are firmly under your feet and you think less about them while you are teaching. That's when you are able to more fully engage with the students and fluidly teach at the same time.

The most important difference is that you will grow in confidence as you gain experience. After 25 years of teaching middle and high school, I was fully aware that there were things I didn't know and there were still things to learn, but I also knew when I was right and when it was okay to insist that students do what I wanted them to do. That's likely something you spend a lot of time questioning now, but you will spend much less time stressing over that as you gain experience.

If you change contexts, it might start over again - a little.  Teaching in a new school or taking on a new discipline means having less assistance from your habits and long term memory. But, you will hold your pedagogy knowledge and be able to catch on to new things more rapidly.  About 18 months ago, I began teaching indoor cycle classes at the YMCA. When I first started, I was constantly miscueing times and having songs end before I was done. I'm a sub, so I often attempt to mimic the instructor for whom I am subbing, but I have finally developed a style of my own.  Last Monday night, on the way out the door, one of the men who has been in many of my classes said, "She's getting harder," to which a lady replied, "I think she's just more confident that she was a year ago."  They were both right. Because I am more confident, I know how hard I can push a class (while still making the point that they are allowed to do whatever they want to) and when a break might be needed.

Thank you for choosing this profession, especially right now.  If you are in your first year, it means that you were a high school junior or senior during lock down and choose to major in education in 2021.  2021 - the hardest year experienced teachers ever had - and you choose to enter the profession then!  Good for you.  

Hang in there. View this year as an investment in your future years. It's an exhausting profession, but it is also an extremely rewarding one. Contrary to advice you may have been given, don't avoid the teacher's lounge; just find the right people in it. Befriend an experienced teacher (not one of the burned out ones, find someone who still has enthusiasm) and learn everything you can from them.  Don't be afraid to ask for help or admit when you don't know something. Whatever mistake you just made, someone else in your building has made it too, and they can give you advice about how to fix it.

Rest well during Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks. Don't be surprised if you get a little sick on the first days of the break; it's like your immune system knows you have time now. Occasionally, take a break by letting something take longer to grade than you want it to or by satisficing (making it good enough to suffice). Don't let perfect be the enemy of good. 

And keep telling yourself that you are learning this year, so you can teach in future years. 

Be Confident in Your Expertise

I've written several posts over the years about the death of expertise and why it matters.  The reason I wanted to write about it again is that I've seen a disturbing trend in education, a sort of populist approach that reduces teachers to facilitators.  

It started by asking students to teach themselves, reducing the role of the teacher to facilitator.  If you are in the world of education, you have been encouraged to stop being the "sage on the stage" in favor of bing the "guide on the side."  If you aren't in education, you might not know these pithy rhyming phrases, but you might have heard your child's teachers talk about being self-guided, using inquiry methods, or using a constructivist approach.  It all means the same thing - the blind leading the blind while the teacher looks on.  

It might have died the inevitable death of most educational fads had it not been for parents with strong opinions who could find a blog to back them up (yes, I'm aware of the irony here).  My most recent school principal has a degree in curriculum, but she found herself in meetings where she had to defend our curriculum choices to people who read an article on parents.net.schoolstuff.something.  In a world where "elitism" is being progressively looked down on, my ill informed opinion is equal to your highly trained expertise.

Because I am scared of getting caught in traffic jams on my way to work, I leave far to early and end up sitting in the parking lot for 15-20 minutes before my shift.  I usually read in the car, but on Thursday, I found myself fascinated by the landscapers and tree trimmers keeping the area around the outdoor pool maintained.  

The first thing I noticed were the amazing tools these guys have.  I don't know what to call the saw that looks like a very large electric turkey knife, but the blade is as long as I am tall.  And it must be incredibly sharp because they run it along the surface of dense trees and bushes with heavy wood branches, and it cuts through them like they are made of something no more substantial than butter. I don't have access to a tool like that because I don't need it and because it would be dangerous if I tried to use it without expertise.

The second thing I noticed was what they did after running the saw along the surface.  They reached out and shook the bushes.  I don't mean a little vibration.  The entire bush was vigorously shaken.  As an outside observer, it appeared to me to be a violent force, and I wondered why it was necessary.  Then, I watched as they cleaned up all of the leaves and sticks that had been loosened and dropped out of the plant.  If they had not shaken it, it would have looked fine that day, but when the newly detached leaves dried up and turned brown, the trees would have looked worse than before.  They knew exactly what to do to make the pants look better that before and thrive without leaving the waste behind.

Because they are equipped, trained, and experienced, they have both tools and expertise I do not have.  This meant that the way they did their job looked strange to me, but it was the right way to do it.

Teachers do things that may look odd to the outside observer.  Students, parents, and people on the internet have a lot of ideas about education.  I have been in conversations with people who have very strong opinions about what teachers should do, in spite of their not having been in a classroom since 1968.  They think that, because they went to school, they know how school should look.  But that would be a little like me thinking I could inform an auto mechanic on the best way to fix my car just because I know how to drive.

Even within the field, there are varying types of expertise.  I may observe teaching methods that I do not know in disciplines other than my own.  I don't have the first clue how to teach computer coding or foreign language, but the experts in those fields are trained in that kind of pedagogy and can make decisions with a different kind of professional judgment than I have.

Some teachers are shy about asserting their professional judgment, especially in meetings with particularly forceful parents.  Some teachers go too far the other way, believing they should never have to explain themselves to anyone outside their area of expertise.  Neither of these is the right approach.  You make the decisions you do for a reason, and you should be happy to share those reasons because they come from a good place.  You can be open to input without caving to everyone who disagrees.

Teachers, as the school year is about to begin, let me encourage you all to find the confidence to make strong decisions, explain them well, and stand your ground because you have skills, tools, and expertise those arguing with you do not possess.