Tag Archives: teacher shortage

The Exodus

Posted by on
Current Affairs, Education, Education Policy, High School, Life in the Classroom, Middle School, Online Teaching, Parent Involvment, Professional Development, Teacher Leadership, Uncategorized |

Are you here to stay?

For some educators, it is the end. They are leaving the classroom. Others are leaving their current positions, changing their teaching assignments, seeking the change that will heal the damage, the damage of the last three years.

It’s hard to fully analyze what has happened to our profession. So much has changed, and these changes are real and here to stay, whether or not we are.

Let’s break it down into a few chewable bites.

Loss of Control

We educators take years to establish control in our classrooms and in our practice. But, the pandemic stripped away our control. Suddenly, we were tasked with solving unsolvable problems, such as how to continue educating students who were no longer in our classrooms. As students returned, we had no control over the work we could expect from them. Expectation had to be lowered, or we would have experienced prolonged failure for our students and ourselves. Then, close on the heels of the subdued and masked, return to schools, this year brought us a marked increase in behavior issues. Unhappy students, fueled by TikTok challenges, anti-public education sentiment, and pent up emotions, vandalized our schools, stole from us, threatened us, and refused to comply with the simplest tasks.

Loss of Respect

With parents on a national scale accusing us of teaching inappropriate materials, violating their students’ rights with mask mandates and quarantines, and having unrealistic expectations, what should we do? Some students parrot the words of their parents, disrespecting public education in general and their teachers specifically. No matter the hours we put in, the changes we endure, the new training we take on, the tears we shed, we are not always seen as allies in the public eye.

Loss of Hope

The statistics are rolling in. We are going to see the effects of the pandemic and the staggering economy on student achievement for years to come. We face the prospect of appearing to fail at our life’s work for many years to come. We have experienced the effects firsthand in our classrooms with students who are easily a year or more behind, not just academically, but developmentally. We are tasked with the continued problems of inequity and achievement gaps, the threat of gun violence, the ongoing lack of mental health support, diminished resources, and a world full of false narratives and propaganda that we fight on a daily basis, just trying to help our students discover their own truths.

Loss of Joy

There is less time for play, for art, for relaxation in the school setting. The urgency around learning loss and solving the problems growing in the system is driving us away from one the most important elements of education. Students and teachers need to find joy in learning and in being a community. Without it, there is less engagement, less safety, less overall satisfaction in the experience of teaching and learning.
It is tough to face all of the loss and carry on, but we must. Of course, some will not come with us on the journey ahead. We certainly understand their need to seek a new profession or remove themselves from uncomfortable situations. However, the rest of us need to rally and carry on in a way that restores the loss.

Let’s be clear. Restoring the loss is not a call to return to normal. There is no normal, no make education great again rhetoric. We need to embrace new solutions to the problems we face.

If we want control of our profession, we need to lift our voices and let our needs be known. Teacher leadership efforts all but disappeared in the pandemic. It is time to step back into the role of advocates and leaders. What do we need? How can we get it? Why do our voices matter? Who is willing to listen and give us the agency we have earned through our experiences.

If we want respect, we need to face this issue on two fronts. First, in the classroom respect is not a given. We cannot stand in front of a group of young people who have suffered through the last few years and demand, because we are older or we are the authority, that we deserve their respect. When you study the effects of trauma on children, you start to understand that traumatic experiences tend to create an aloofness in children. They do not automatically trust adults. Without trust, true respect cannot exist. To earn the respect of students, it will take time. Teachers will need to focus on the safe and supportive environment they provide in the classroom. They need to model the respect they want to receive. That is the only way to get it from kids who have been struggling. On a larger scale, our respect as a profession will also take time. We need to openly advocate for the safety and support of our students. Our voices need to be heard, so that the false narratives have some competition. And, maybe most importantly, we need to reach out to families and communities, including them and opening our doors. When they see what we do for kids, they will have a deeper understanding.

If we want hope for the future of education, the time is ripe for innovation, creativity, and entrepreneurship. Seek and share solutions to our common problems. What works? What helps our students? What makes us happier in our classrooms? For me, I am diving deeper into trauma-informed teaching practices and brain science. The pandemic gave me the opportunity to put my work online and expand the resources I provide to my students. I am not pulling back from that; I am leaning in. I am embracing technology as a way to open up a world of knowledge for my students, and I resolve to help them find their own truth through informed research and inquiry. After all, those kids are my hope.

Finally, if we want joy, we need to play and create together. We need to offset the incessant testing with music, theater, dance, art, physical activity, and all pursuits that bring smiles to the faces in our buildings. Happiness is the cure for all the ills we are facing, and the pursuit of happiness in education is a noble cause.

So, if you are not giving up on finding your joy in this profession, I invite you to join me in my quest for regaining our control, our respect, our hope, and our joy.

Despite the challenges (and because of them), I’m staying.

Are you?


Ready for a deeper dive? Check out the links below.

Links to stories about the crisis:

NPR’s Consider This: Teachers Reflect on a Tough School Year

EdSource: Covid Challenges, Bad Student Behavior, Push Teachers to the Limit & Out the Door

The Wall Street Journal: School’s Out for Summer & Many Teachers Are Calling It Quits

NPR: We Asked Teachers How Their Year Went; They Warned of an Exodus to Come

Here some more to address some of the problems:

Education Week Video: How Can We Solve the Teacher Staffing Shortage

Secretary Cardona Lays Out a Vision to Support and Elevate the Teaching Profession

Education Week: How School Leaders Can Support Social Emotional Learning (and Retain Teachers, Too)

Experts Say We Can Prevent School Shootings; Here’s What the Research Says

The Worldwide Woes of Rural Education

Posted by on
Education, Education Policy, Life in the Classroom, Teacher Leadership, Uncategorized | , , ,

It’s no secret that there is a shortage of teachers entering the workforce in Washington (OSPI has a page on this). But have you seen the news from rural China? Recent articles explain how education in rural China is in a crisis. Due to the developmental divide between urban and rural areas, and the low wages for teachers, young Chinese teachers entering the profession have little incentive to work in rural areas, far from the conveniences of the larger towns and cities. Likewise, wealthier rural families send their children to schools in more urban areas for better opportunities. Meanwhile, the students who remain in rural schools suffer from ever-decreasing quality of education, high teacher turnover, and limited programs of instruction.

Yunnan Rice Fields

I wish these articles were as exotic and foreign to me as the locale would suggest, but, line after line, I kept seeing a parallel to my own teaching context.

First of all, Chinese villages are inconvenient, with transportation issues for students and teachers. Transportation is a problem in rural Lewis County, too. Some students who attend my small, rural school in Southwest Washington, ride the bus for more than an hour from their remote homes. And, teachers who want to eat at a nice restaurant, shop at a large store, or get the oil changed in their car will have to drive at least forty minutes from our little neighborhood. Okay, it is probably worse in rural China, but who wants to drive forty minutes for fast food?

Another parallel? Rural Chinese teachers have little or no social life. Likewise, although many young teachers take rural teaching jobs in our region, it takes very little time before they realize that these remote, depressed areas are not exactly conducive to meeting other young singles. They have to travel for socialization, and, let’s face it, first-year teachers don’t have the time or money for the traveling.

Yamdrok Lake, Tibet, China

Other Chinese programs have cropped up to create incentives for teachers and young college graduates, even if they have no long-term wish to teach at all. These young people are encouraged to “volunteer” to perform a service for less privileged populations. They often start out enthusiastic and effective, but rarely last as teachers. They are a temporary fix that leaves needy rural students feeling abandoned after a short time.

This is a problem in our school, too. We have several positions filled by people who would not normally qualify for the jobs. For instance, our secondary special education teacher is a long-term substitute without prior experience in special ed. This is her second year. That would be especially terrible, but we are lucky, and she is doing a super job. But how fair is it that someone is doing a job they were not trained to do, without receiving benefits? She doesn’t plan to stay in the job.

Riffe Lake, Mossyrock WA

Another program that China is developing is a pipeline for rural educators, starting with high school students. They are incentivizing young people, getting them to promise to work in rural areas in exchange for their college education. This is where the parallel ends. I wish we had incentives for young people in rural communities to go into teaching. Our rural county is lacking in high school programs for future educators (such as Recruiting Washington Teachers), and that is especially frustrating.

Look, it takes a certain kind of educator to work in a poor, rural area. We are remote. We lack conveniences. Plus, we have kids that need us desperately due to poverty, homelessness, and domestic issues. We have diverse populations with needs that are sometimes hard to meet with limited resources and staff. It is hard to come from somewhere else and fall in love with this community, despite its beauty and the charm of the people who live here. Candidates for teaching jobs need to be up to the challenge.

My idea of a solid solution is our own local pipeline. I can imagine some of my current students as future teachers in rural Washington. They would know what they were getting into. They would understand the rhythm of the place. They would know the people. They would speak the languages. They wouldn’t mind the drive “out town,” which is our particular colloquialism for the big cities of Chehalis and Centralia. These kids would be perfect for the jobs. And we need them- desperately.

Lewis County Blueberry Fields

But this is not China, and no one is offering them money to become teachers and come back home to teach. In fact, we struggle to get programs for these promising students to earn college credit in high school. Unlike most urban schools who can attract teachers with advanced degrees to teach college courses in a high school setting, our teachers are often teaching several subjects, some of them far removed from their original major. Like rural China, our best students leave us for the better offerings of larger towns, such as Running Start or schools that offer more AP courses, clubs, or arts programs.

So, despite having students who would be excellent future teachers, we are losing the opportunity to give them an early start on that journey, to win them over to the joys of rural education.

Because it is joyous.

It would take so little to solve so much. Before it is worse, before we seem even more like rural China, we need to get our policy leaders to incentivize the education of future rural teachers.