What holds you back?
I've been an early childhood teacher for 11 years. When I entered this profession, I wasn't prepared for how often fear would drive my work.
Fear that I wasn't earning enough. That I would never, ever earn enough.
(Early in my career, I had to supplement my salary with savings. I lived with a friend who let me pay way less than my half of the rent every month. I still depleted my savings in less than one year.)
Fear that I'd need to defend the play happening in my classroom.
Fear that my teaching could only be substantiated by measurable skills and through standardized assessments.
Fear that challenging "the way things had always been" could cost me my job.
Fear that, if I didn't have complete and utter control at all times (HA!), someone would get hurt. And that would get me in trouble.
Fear that I would fail miserably. Fail the children and families depending on me. Fail my own painfully high expectations. But most of all, fail by the measures of best practice in early childhood education.
Teaching from fear is a terrible way to work, on all counts. And yet, it's the sentence we bring down on teaching professionals in our country. Why is that? How many novice teachers are entering the work force this very spring, armed with a degree and a list of justifications of their practice? Why are they primed and ready to teach from a place of fear, well before they even enter the field?
No single one of us can change a culture that expects four-year-olds to sit quietly for extended periods of time; or embraces tutoring services for children where the only requirement is that they be potty trained; or promotes five minute "brain breaks" instead of recess.
But what we can do, one by one, is choose joy over fear. We can commit to work that, to the best of our ability in our given situations, honors the dignity in each child. We can make the effort to connect in some positive way - however big or small - with each student, each day. We can't change the system by ourselves. But we can change our practice.
This is my challenge for you, dear colleagues. Will you choose joy?
I've been an early childhood teacher for 11 years. When I entered this profession, I wasn't prepared for how often fear would drive my work.
Fear that I wasn't earning enough. That I would never, ever earn enough.
(Early in my career, I had to supplement my salary with savings. I lived with a friend who let me pay way less than my half of the rent every month. I still depleted my savings in less than one year.)
Fear that I'd need to defend the play happening in my classroom.
Fear that my teaching could only be substantiated by measurable skills and through standardized assessments.
Fear that challenging "the way things had always been" could cost me my job.
Fear that, if I didn't have complete and utter control at all times (HA!), someone would get hurt. And that would get me in trouble.
Fear that I would fail miserably. Fail the children and families depending on me. Fail my own painfully high expectations. But most of all, fail by the measures of best practice in early childhood education.
Teaching from fear is a terrible way to work, on all counts. And yet, it's the sentence we bring down on teaching professionals in our country. Why is that? How many novice teachers are entering the work force this very spring, armed with a degree and a list of justifications of their practice? Why are they primed and ready to teach from a place of fear, well before they even enter the field?
No single one of us can change a culture that expects four-year-olds to sit quietly for extended periods of time; or embraces tutoring services for children where the only requirement is that they be potty trained; or promotes five minute "brain breaks" instead of recess.
But what we can do, one by one, is choose joy over fear. We can commit to work that, to the best of our ability in our given situations, honors the dignity in each child. We can make the effort to connect in some positive way - however big or small - with each student, each day. We can't change the system by ourselves. But we can change our practice.
This is my challenge for you, dear colleagues. Will you choose joy?
