Ridiculous Opinions #295
It happens every summer.
As teachers, we get summer vacations. It is the source of derision amongst the unenlightened, those who view teaching as one of the “lesser” professions; who view teaching as a refuge for those who they say “cannot do”; those non-teachers who toil away in their day-to-day in uncreative and unattractive work that leaves them to heap scorn on that which they do not understand. We will ignore those people and focus on what it means to be a teacher who has a summer to recharge.
At the end of the year, most teachers are little more than hollow shells of themselves. We start the year strong and sturdy, like mighty pines in the forests of British Columbia, ready for the harsh winter and rugged climate. But throughout the year, we are invaded by pine beetles, weakened by drought, and scraped away by bears rubbing their nether regions on us in order to scratch that itch. We are merely a husk by the end of the year, vulnerable to forest fires and/or loggers intent on cutting us down.
Do you like that metaphor?
The bottom line is that by the end of the year, we are limping to the finish line. It’s tough to deal with the psychology of other human beings on a daily basis. When I stand in front of my classes, I have twenty-four different personalities to deal with, all of whom have different wants and needs, and who bring with them that baggage that I have to deal with, whether I want to or not. If little Timmy is angry, then that anger radiates outward into the classroom around him. I have to keep Timmy busy for the entire class period. If little Suzy is depressed, then that also radiates outward into the classroom. Multiply that times twenty-four kids per period (which is my average class size) and you’ll understand that chemistry in a classroom is a real thing. As teachers, this is what we have to deal with. This is not necessarily a complaint. It’s simply part of the job.
The majority of the world’s population does not have to deal with such a thing. Most people have a small circle of personalities that they have to deal with on a daily basis, and yes, they may have their quirks and flaws, but the scale with which they have to deal with these things is much smaller than what we deal with. Couple with that the personalities of both parents and other teachers, and you’ll see why we get ground down throughout the year.
I know there are all kinds of arguments about why teachers shouldn’t have their summers; that some people want year-round school; that it’s an archaic notion from a different time period. Screw that. I don’t care how logical your argument is for year-round school. I don’t care. I really don’t.
Summers are necessary.
We live in a results-oriented world, where everything is a return on investment. Somehow, capitalist notions of endless profit and endless growth have enveloped our minds in a way that has made us all sick as a society. The constant need to work. The constant need to have money. The desire for time to be commodified, learning to be measured and compared, and results to be expected have transformed us all into automatons, cogs in a giant wheel that turn us into something less than human. It’s that way of thinking that has brought us to this point in history, where neighbors no longer care about neighbors, and the good of the individual outweighs the good of the whole.
We are this way because we don’t have our summers.
I’ve had a magical summer. I have been far away from society, out in the middle of the woods, having time to think and breathe and reflect. I have spent time with cherished family. My beard has grown long and my belly has grown large. I have finished projects, started new ones, and sat in quiet contemplation often. I have drawn many pictures and written many words and it has been absolutely rejuvenating. And I am lucky in that I have had the ability to do such a thing. If you haven’t, I’m sorry.
Over the last twenty years, we have moved away from this type of thing. Schools have been filled with Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics, which has warped our brains into something that is lacking empathy, reflection, and growth. Everything is numbers-based and look where those numbers have led us; cold and calculating, linear, obtuse, logical; completely lacking empathy for the world around us.
So, as I begin this new year, I am going to focus my teaching on the arts and how important these things are to being a human being. I am rejuvenated in a way that will allow me to approach teaching as an art form that helps us express our humanity in the face of a world that no longer values that. And my summer is what has enabled me to do such a thing. It has given me the strength to approach the world in a way that will allow me to pass on that strength to my students. I will be able to give 100% to those little turds to help them see the world in a different way.
And slowly, throughout the course of the year, that strength will fade. And by the end of the year, I will be little more than a husk of what I was at the beginning of the year, ground down by those “personalities” and that “grind” and by the Sisyphean task of pushing that bolder up the hill.
But I can do this because I have my summer.
So, sit back and scoff at the man who has spent the last two months doing nothing. Seethe with jealousy at my existence. Cluck your tongue and tut-tut at my leisurely lifestyle spent amongst the trees, reflecting on life and our place in the universe.
I will empathize with you because I have summers that enable me to do such a thing. And it is that empathy that will power the world to a better future.
You’re welcome.
