Those who can do, those who can’t teach. We’ve all heard it right? Have you ever felt like wearing a t-shirt or a banner saying: “The long vacation and short hours are a mirage.” Most of us leave school, come home, eat and continue working. In spite of all evidence to the contrary: We’re no strangers to burning the midnight oil. We watch movies and make lesson plans based on a 2 minute scene, listen to music and structure gap-fill exercises…  And yes, some of us work on Sundays, usually behind closed doors of our homes with only our loved ones seeing us.

Children are not angels – they’re people, with good and bad sides, only shorter. Or to put it in Singerina’s teacher’s words: “Children are not small people. They are big people in small bodies.” And grown-ups are not big people, they’re the same kids only older. Working with either age group is not something you’re either born with or not – even the ones with talent have to study a lot to become good teachers.

Teaching is not a “nice” job. The non-teachers should be warned that using that word “nice” is equal to risking their life. A pen is mightier than a sword and we’re the ones teaching people how to write and speak. So I decided to share a poem with you. In response to all the non-believers. ;)

http://youtu.be/0xuFnP5N2uA

What Teachers Make

by Taylor Mali

He says the problem with teachers is

What’s a kid going to learn

 from someone who decided his best option in life

 was to become a teacher?

 He reminds the other dinner guests that it’s true

 what they say about teachers:

Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.

 I decide to bite my tongue instead of his

 and resist the temptation to remind the dinner guests

 that it’s also true what they say about lawyers.

 Because we’re eating, after all, and this is polite conversation.

I mean, you’re a teacher, Taylor.

 Be honest. What do you make?

And I wish he hadn’t done that— asked me to be honest—

 because, you see, I have this policy about honesty and ass-‐kicking:

 if you ask for it, then I have to let you have it.

 You want to know what I make?

 I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.

 I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional Medal of Honor

 and an A-‐ feel like a slap in the face.

How dare you waste my time

 with anything less than your very best.

 I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall

 in absolute silence. No, you may not work in groups.

 No, you may not ask a question.

 Why won’t I let you go to the bathroom?

 Because you’re bored.

 And you don’t really have to go to the bathroom, do you?

 I make parents tremble in fear when I call home:

 Hi. This is Mr. Mali. I hope I haven’t called at a bad time,

I just wanted to talk to you about something your son said today.

 To the biggest bully in the grade, he said,

 “Leave the kid alone. I still cry sometimes, don’t you?

 It’s no big deal.”

 And that was noblest act of courage I have ever seen.

 I make parents see their children for who they are

 and what they can be.

You want to know what I make? I make kids wonder,

 I make them question.

 I make them criticize.

 I make them apologize and mean it.

 I make them write.

 I make them read, read, read.

 I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful

 over and over and over again until they will never misspell

 either one of those words again.

 I make them show all their work in math

 and hide it on their final drafts in English.

 I make them understand that if you’ve got this,

 then you follow this,

 and if someone ever tries to judge you

 by what you make, you give them this.

Here, let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:

 Teachers make a goddamn difference! Now what about you?

(as found here: http://taylormali.com/poems-online/what-teachers-make/)

Have a good day tomorrow!

Yours truly,

D