Why we do it

Oh, man, I did not plan my morning well. I'd like to say that's the exception; unfortunately, it tends to be my pattern. I carefully chart out my day, my schedule, my path--and then something distracts me, and I'm running behind. Again.

So it was this morning. I wasn't actually late, but I was scrambling to get myself where I needed to be by 10 a.m. And as I was scurrying through the parking lot and jumping onto the sidewalk, I exchanged greetings with a student (I will call her Gloria) and fully intended to keep up my brisk pace to the B-Wing. But I felt a tug, a sense that there was a little more to the exchange that wanted my attention. I could tell that Gloria wanted to talk just a little bit. "I'm coming down to the mark," she had told me, her smile beaming. "But you know, I can't think about it too much or I'll start to cry."

I paused in my thoughts. I reminded myself that I wasn't really late yet, and my teacher gene kicked in. I slowed down my pace to match hers, and we chatted.

I asked Gloria what would make her cry about earning her degree. Such a marvelous milestone should be met with smiles, not tears. She explained. Just a tick over 50 years old, she had not completed high school. She'd quit after the ninth grade. A few years later, she decided she should get her GED, and after 15 back-and-forth years, she finally made it. Next came Parkland. She never truly believed she would actually make it through the whole program. But here she is, on the cusp of graduating, with a whole new world of opportunities ahead.

In that brief walk from the parking lot to the door, we shared about five minutes of conversation. And in a mere five minutes, I heard a story, a great story, a touching tale. Here was a woman who for years has had few professional opportunities; someone who has a great deal to offer, but was tied up raising a family, being a friend, doing what everyone else needed doing.

And now Gloria is about to graduate from college.

I felt tears well up in my own eyes, and I told her so. How proud she must feel! I walked into my office with a full heart and a smile on my face. This is why we do it.

There are lots of cliches about how deeply we teachers care about our students, and I recall from my own college years not believing that I really mattered to my professors. They spoke a good line, and they were there when I needed a little extra help. I thought it was awfully nice of them to say they cared, that it mattered to them whether I learned or not. But I knew they weren't really thinking about me or any of my classmates beyond the boundaries of the classroom. They were just being kind and saying the kinds of things that teachers are supposed to say. How wrong I was!

I don't know if it's the "teacher's heart" that drives us to our vocation, or if we grow the heart because we are teachers. But it is not a myth. The teacher's heart is like no other. It is our heart that drives us.

When you accomplish something wonderful, we celebrate. When your assignment is a hastily done mess, we are saddened. Every F we enter in the gradebook hurts, as we tend to take it personally. "Why did I lose this student? How did I fail him or her? What could I have done better?"

And when we get to share a few moments with someone as I did with Gloria this morning, the joy and pride runs deep. Joyful in our empathy with a successful student who has made it through some very challenging coursework and is ready to take on new challenges in the workplace. Pride in being a part of this college that has helped with that success.

This is why we do it. The odd hours, the eclectic student body, the need to continuously upgrade both technical skills and teaching methods, the frustration of trying to figure out new ways to explain old concepts so that maybe everyone will understand it this semester, the demanding students who seem to assume that we live our work 24/7 and have no other obligations or interests, the ever-increasing pressures from government and other external bodies to keep finding new ways to prove that we're doing a good job, and don't even get me started on the meetings....

All of that "stuff" fades into the background when we are celebrating your successes with you. Whether it's completing a degree, making it through MAT 095, or finally mastering the dreaded AVERAGEIFS function, we feel it. We relate. We are proud for you.

Some say teaching is a thankless job. Nothing could be further from the truth. As long as our focus is on our students, this profession is chock-full of rewards. And while it is a job, and we do work for salary, the real reason for our choice of profession comes from something deeper. It comes from our own sense of pride, joy, and accomplishment that arises from helping others to find their successes.

It's true. We do it for you.