It was 9:30 Friday morning. As the college faculty filed into the conference room, one professor complained about the earlier starting time (departmental meetings usually began at 10), and another questioned why meetings were even called on Friday. Having just spent a year teaching at a local elementary school, I found myself less than sympathetic with my colleagues.
The demeanor of the professors, some of whom arrived late and wore shorts and sneakers, contrasted sharply with the teachers at Lander Elementary School. Filing into school at 7:30 each morning, the Lander teachers were likely to be loaded down with papers and books as they hurried to the supply room to use the one copier available to them. A large handwritten sign that the principal had placed above the copier reminded teachers to limit copies to 20 per day. Copies in hand, many of these teachers then rushed to cafeteria duty, where they cajoled and coaxed students into eating their food, staying in their seats, keeping their hands to themselves, and speaking in their “whisper voices.”
My year in the public school system had been a humbling experience. It was not an altogether new experience—I had taught in the public schools for 12 years and had been a principal for four years before entering the hallowed halls of academia, where I spent the next eight years. As a professor, I taught educational administration to hundreds of students, sharing numerous research studies with them. Yet, despite my knowledge, a feeling of anxiety came over me when a teacher from Lander Elementary invited me to come to her class and demonstrate strategies I had recommended.
In retrospect, I realize I needed that challenge. I needed to understand and appreciate firsthand the realities of an elementary classroom. I needed to spend an evening developing lesson plans and creating instructional materials. I needed to experience the challenge of keeping a class of 27 unmotivated, active 3rd graders attentive and involved. In short, I needed to see whether I could in fact put into practice all those wonderful teaching techniques I had been selling my graduate students.
As I sat in the meeting I remembered the fear I felt as I stood before Ms. Kason's rambunctious 3rd graders. I recalled, too, the voices of frustrated teachers who, despite their students' reluctance to participate, moved briskly through their classrooms trying to provide each student with individual attention. And I recalled Ms. Kason's cramped classroom: plastic desks that were too small for some children, too large for others. The rattle of an air conditioner was so loud it forced Ms. Kason to almost yell to be heard.
I began to resent the attitudes of some of my colleagues. Some had never worked in public schools; others had not been in an elementary or secondary school classroom for more than 10 years. More than anything, I resented the fact that some of them didn't appreciate the advantages they had as college professors.
Focusing on the comfortable conference room, I found something troubling as well about the contrasting facilities. The contrast spoke volumes about how we value—or rather devalue—elementary school teachers. In fact, we seem to assign status in inverse proportion to the age of the students taught. The older the student, the more valued the teacher. Middle school teachers have more status than elementary school teachers, high school teachers have more than middle school teachers, and university teachers (that is, professors), command the highest status of all. Within the university community, the hierarchy is even more pronounced. Graduate assistants or junior faculty typically teach freshmen, while tenured, senior faculty members tend to be reserved for upper classmen and graduate students.
Gender enters in as well. The overwhelming majority of elementary school teachers are, after all, women. Most college professors are men. And the sad fact is, in our society, the larger the percentage of men who hold a position, the greater the status and prestige attached to that position.
I'm not suggesting that we reverse the gender ratio in education. I'm suggesting we get rid of the pyramid. If we insist on keeping it, however, I would argue that we invert it and reserve the highest status for those who teach the youngest students. College professors do have an advantage. They deal with students who have survived a 12- to 14-year educational sorting process. Accordingly, many professors “profess.” That is, they present content with the expectation that their students will assume responsibility for mastering it. But the doors to the elementary school classroom are, for the most part, open to all. And an increasing number of these young students are what we variously refer to as at risk or difficult to teach. Elementary school teachers must constantly search for ways to motivate, inspire, and challenge these children.
College teaching is different from elementary school teaching, but the difference is not in relative value. An effective teacher at any level is valuable. Teaching is challenging at all levels. To my colleagues in academia who may disagree with me, I offer this invitation: Come teach Ms. Kason's 3rd graders for a while.
