Professionalism and Teaching

I spent eighteen years of my life working in corporate America. My success was measured annually through evaluation of my work output, peer collaboration, and overall contribution to the companies that employed me. I wanted to “feel” my contribution every day, so rather than choose overly large companies I kept to mid- to small-sized ones. In such organizations, you got to know all of your co-workers with less of that “anonymous worker” mentality one normally associates with big-corporate offices. The sense of collaboration is palpable in small offices and you have an ongoing awareness of your place in your employer’s success and/or failure. That isn’t to say that everything was rosy or that I always had control over the expectations or corporate choices, but at least I could voice my ideas and shape my input within those expectations.


How did that translate to education? Let’s just say there was a period of adjustment. My teaching is, no doubt, informed by my time in the corporate world. Let’s face it, I have a perspective that teachers who haven’t worked in any other field lack. That isn’t to say they are ignorant; good teachers have open minds and do their leg work – they understand the changing world. It just means I understand what potential employers will or may want out of our graduates. The education system and society at large, however, have expectations that are at odds with those of our student's future employers. This is reflected in the attitudes toward teachers and teaching. When did the idea that teaching was less than a “professional” profession appear? Is it a remnant of the archaic ideals of yesteryear, or has the profession lost “face” as our society progressed through the 20th century to find itself mired in mediocrity as it hauled itself towards and into the new millennium?

A recent posting by a friend (http://teachingthemwhy.blogspot.com/) asks if we “practice what we preach?” and it got me to thinking about this negative view of teaching as seen in the practice of teachers (including my own). If I liked smaller companies because they allowed me to use my voice, do I practice this in my classroom and school? I have to say I do – more so because of my big mouth than the actual nature of the professional environment in which I worked. My final year in Hawaii didn’t garner me any new “friends” among my peers as I confronted issues I found troubling within my school. Don’t misunderstand, I worked at being diplomatic in my approach, but I can’t believe that we, as professionals, can succeed without owning our shortcomings – both individually and as a school/profession. I know – no one likes to be called on their sh*t! I’m not one to sit back – I want to be good at what I do, no, I NEED to be good at what I do – too many lives depend on it. As educators, we cannot immediately change the problems that hang about the limbs of the system, but we can impact our school and classrooms – and this can lead to larger changes as we move forward.

So how about starting with a sense of professionalism? Look around our schools – how many teachers look and act like a professional? Do they dress the part? Do they carry themselves with a sense of dignity and appropriateness? This is what will be expected by our students when they enter the workforce, whether they are blue- or white- collar in their career choices. If one of the first rules of teaching is “model the behavior you want to see in your students,” then shouldn’t we lead by example? Too often I see teachers who dress like our students (shorts, t-shirts, torn jeans, tight shirts) for work. Granted, my Hawaii school had only a few rooms with air conditioning and fans had to be provided by the teachers. On hot days or in second story classrooms, wearing shorts was the only way to keep cool enough to stay focused. I plead guilty to doing it from time to time, yet I never felt comfortable. Wearing such attire crossed the line of being more like a student than a teacher and I couldn’t help feeling like students needed to know that I was the teacher. Even in shorts, I at least wore a collared shirt (pullover or button up)…wearing a t-shirt just felt wrong. I felt better in my khakis, shirt, and shoes.

Beyond the appearance, (let's face it, in the end it's the what a teacher does that counts more) professionalism is exemplified in the manner of behavior we practice with students and peers alike. Too many teachers cross boundaries with students – we aren’t their friends. The student-teacher relationship requires us to maintain the appropriate lines – we support our students and need to remember our obligations to the student, his/her family, the legal system, and our profession. Like a doctor, we should take a “do no harm” oath and remember that this means making tough choices that our students will not always appreciate for years to come, if ever, but serves their best interests and overall success. If we owe that to them, don’t we owe it to one another? Should we not be able to approach one another and openly discuss what we see happening in our classrooms? If we don’t monitor, support, and push one another to be at our best, who will? Administrators are mired down, principals and vice principals rarely getting the opportunity to do their required walk-throughs. DOEs are more fixated on school-wide results rather than examining individuals and providing support and continuing quality training. And our unions, meant to protect our best interests, are so politicized and dysfunctional that what good they do is overshadowed by the ineffective teachers they help keep in the classrooms, hurting all of us.

Perhaps it is time to step back and consider what we, as a profession, can learn from the corporate model. I’m not advocating the privatization of schools or that the corporate model is perfect, I’m simply suggesting that it is worth looking at. Read Daniel Fisher’s Forbes.com article, “What Educators Are Learning from Money Managers,” and consider its main ideas. I’ll admit some bias here – Achievement First is my new employer - however consider the article’s overall ideas about creating a system of achievement for students and teachers. It isn’t “the answer,” but perhaps there is something to be said for its approach.