Where Are The Teachers?
A few years ago, I gave a talk at an education conference. The topic of the conference was K-12 mathematics education, but like most such conferences, it took place at a university. When I spoke near the end of the conference, my topic was a simple question: "Where are the teachers?" Over three days, not one of the speakers was an actual K-12 teacher. Teachers were experts too, I said, and we should be listening to them too. Awkward silence followed. Finally, one of the distinguished education professors spoke up. "You know," he said with some irritation, "I wouldn't ask my students to teach their own classes; why should we invite K-12 teachers to talk about education?"
I was reminded of this when I read a recent opinion piece in the Washington Post by Mike Rose, an education scholar from UCLA. Rose pointed out that over the years he'd read some 60 articles on medicine in the New Yorker magazine; nearly two-thirds were authored by medical practitioners (medical doctors). Yet over the same period, he'd read 17 articles on education, and not one had been authored by an education practitioner, either a teacher or an education researcher. (I myself would be less expansive in defining "practitioner.") Rose went on to explain why this ill-served the New Yorker's readership.
David Remnick, the New Yorker's editor provided a brief response in which he compared education to politics or sports. Remnick pointed out that they published many articles on these other subjects, but few by politicians or sports figures. He added that the New Yorker did publish articles authored by university professors, who were, after all, educators too.
Now we have COVID-19. Here in New York City, as in other places across the country, the city faced an agonizing decision, whether to close the schools. The decision was complex: Schools provide a variety of vital services to students and their families, and one had to balance disrupting those services against slowing the contagion, potentially saving lives. The decision also involved education itself, however, and while politicians, pundits, social workers, advocates for the poor, even union reps all weighed in, teachers were not part of the deliberations. Teachers found out the day before.
It's commonplace to say, "We don't respect teachers," but we seldom consider what that means. Respect isn't merely the way you treat people-respect is the way you value their expertise. That eminent university professor infantilized K-12 teachers, no matter how seasoned or accomplished they were, perhaps because the teachers he knows are in training. Mr. Remnick suggested that university professors provide sufficient expertise most likely because he doesn't know what education expertise means (or perhaps he confuses expertise with prestige). When deciding whether to close schools, the mayor and chancellor saw teachers as employees who receive decisions rather than experts who help shape them.
When we don't value expertise, we stop expecting it. Some policy makers assert that teachers don't need to know content beyond the level of their students. (They suggest that teachers who learn as they teach can understand their students' struggles!) Teachers seldom have a role in formulating pedagogical reforms, which are often created by university educators or politicians. And teachers are almost never consulted about policies that profoundly affect their students, like standardized testing or algebra for all in 8th grade (or closing schools).
Should teachers be experts in the content they teach? Of course, they must. To teach young people, you have to know the material-deeply, differently, so you can unpack the ideas in many ways, for the struggling as well as the precocious. Should teachers be part of reform? Of course. Teachers are the ones who drive reform forward, not policy makers. Should teachers weigh in on issues that affect their students? It seems absurd to even ask such a question. Good teachers know their students best. When we ignore this, we make colossal mistakes, like creating bizarre testing regimes or proposing misaligned curricula.
Education suffers when we don't value teacher expertise, but the worst consequence is something more lasting: The teaching profession becomes less attractive. The best eventually leave, fewer of the best enter, and over time teacher expertise declines, creating a downward spiral.
Yes, I know, not every teacher is an accomplished expert, just as not every doctor is. But many are, and they are the ones we need most. Instead, they leave. Worse, they tell brilliant young people who think about teaching as a career: "You can do better." A 2019 PDK survey asked teachers whether they would advise their own children to follow in their footsteps; less than half (45 percent) said they would.
The week of May 4 is Teacher Appreciation Week in the United States. This year, instead of giving teachers a plant or a letter or a video (all suggestions from the internet), why not give them something they can use? Give them respect-the kind that recognizes their expertise. Otherwise, we might all soon be asking … "Where are the teachers?"