THE LEGEND OF THE HORSE
Bad things do happen to good teachers.
In my neck of the woods, school has been in session for a week. When I was teaching, I usually dreaded the end of summer, especially the last five years of my career. They were the worst of my 46 years. Even though I was forced to retire in 2017, the sardonic taste of bullying from administrators and negativity from colleagues still permeates my palate. And it almost stopped me from blogging and podcasting today’s message for teachers.
It was always my goal to end my lengthy career with celebratory parties and a true sense of completing the lifelong task of successful teaching. Instead, I was fired without due process and never celebrated by my school nor my district. But don’t feel sorry for me. I am blessed with the knowledge that I did make a difference in many students’ lives. How do I know this? Over 1000 followers on social media, many of whom are former students, offer kind words and overt affection. Reading their comments brings a smile to my face and sometimes even tears to these old eyes. My teaching career was without regret, IF you take the adults out of the equation.
I have to admit that I did develop a bit of a victim mentality as a teacher, caused by those “adults.” There were “adult” parents who felt entitled to attack. Of course the “adult” admin who never had the strength of character to defend me or even most of their staff. And the “adult” colleagues who could slice and dice me easier than affirming me. Thankfully teaching was and continues to be all about the kids. Please remember that. As I share the Legend of the Horse, perhaps then you will be able to understand that positive life experiences can and will evolve out of those negative situations.
The Legend of the Horse
Rabbi Shraga Simmons tells the story of a farmer who owned a horse: One day the farmer’s horse ran away. All the people in the town came to console him because of the loss. "Oh, I don’t know," said the farmer, "maybe it’s a bad thing and maybe it’s not."A few days later, the horse returned to the farm accompanied by 20 other horses. (Apparently he had found some wild horses and made friends!) All the townspeople came to congratulate him: "Now you have a stable full of horses!" "Oh, I don’t know," said the farmer, "maybe it’s a good thing and maybe it’s not."A few days later, the farmer’s son was out riding one of the new horses. The horse got wild and threw him off, breaking the son’s leg. So all the people in town came to console the farmer because of the accident. "Oh, I don’t know," said the farmer, "maybe it’s a bad thing and maybe it’s not.” A few days later, the government declared war and instituted a draft of all able-bodied young men. They came to the town and carted off 100’s of young men, except for the farmer’s son who had a broken leg. "Now I know," said the farmer, "that it was a good thing my horse ran away.”
When I heard this story for the first time, it imbued my soul. I understood why God allowed me to experience wonderful, sad and appalling episodes throughout my teaching career. My forced retirement motivated me to record my thoughts on paper and publish my book Rescue the Teacher, Save the Child! I now understand God’s new purpose for my life. Battered teachers, who are too afraid to come forward, need a voice. Will my rocky experiences deter prospective teachers away from the classroom? They must not. In over four decades, only a handful of fall seasons produced the dread of returning to the classroom. That dread evolved from the caustic adults in residence and never the children. Bad things happen to good teachers. Full stop. So accept it! Adapt to the farmer’s point of view and realize good things can happen out of bad situations. And doing so will take time.
A career adorned with accolades, admiring parents and supportive administrators would produce a dull read. Welcome the crises of life and evoke the words of Henry Kissinger: a diamond is a chunk of coal that did well under pressure. Celebrate those days which feel like weeks. Step back from the criticism and honestly reflect if you need to change your teaching philosophy. I did this over and over! My narrative has a great ending. Knowing what I know now, I would not change anything! There are no mistakes in life, only lessons. There is no such thing as a negative experience, only opportunities to grow. From struggle comes strength. Even pain can be a wonderful teacher. (Robin Sharma).
One of my favorite movie scenes depicted a teacher attempting to run off copies for the day’s lessons. The copier, determined not to cooperate, created a line of impatient staff members. The teacher tried all the usual tricks to persuade the copier to work: opened a multitude of doors, wiggled trays, and gave the usual thump to the machine itself. Sweating and hyperventilating, this instructor showed signs of a nervous breakdown. His colleagues rolled their eyes, offering no support. And then he erupted! Grabbing the paper and drawers of the machine, he slung them through the air. The teachers, waiting in line, ducked for cover. As expletives spilled forth, he tore the machine apart. Finally encountering the massive ink cartridge, he yanked it out, opened it and sprayed it all over the room, in machine gun fashion, taking particular aim at his colleagues.
This hyperbolic episode played out comedically for the benefit of movie goers. However those of you who rely on copy machines will certainly attest to the volatility of that contraption and the angst it creates.
Teaching does seem a bit mad. Movies depict teachers anywhere from buffoons to heroic super-humans. Somewhere in between lies the truth. Be assured those hectic, mad days will be followed by more reasonable ones. Do not let the bumps in the road become permanent road blocks. The tears of frustration will be replaced with tears of incredible joy when a student demonstrates true understanding of a concept or he publicly proclaims you made a difference. Sometimes those special moments happen a few times in a career. But occasionally, they can occur hour by hour. Stay the course. Teach like this nation depends on it, because it does.
