Live With That
Publication Type:
Web ArticleYear of Publication:
2004Abstract:
As a colleague tenders his resignation after a string of problems with excessive discipline, Ellen Berg finds that her students still felt a responsibility--and wanted a good bye from--the teacher they had resented.
Berg, E. (2004). Live with that. Teacher Leaders Network diaries. Retrieved from the Teacher Leaders Network 10 Apr 2008. Link: http://www.teacherleaders.org/old_site/diaries04_05/EB11_04_05.html
Full Text:
Live With That
Back in week three I wrote that I was concerned about an experienced but new-to-our-school teacher on my team. His actions were punitive, and he seemed far too emotionally removed from our kids. I had grave concerns.
Since that time he has flunked more than 85 percent of our students, sent office referrals for issues such as a young woman (one of our nicest, sweetest kids) combing her hair in his classroom, had a child hit on the head with a textbook to the point the child had seizures, and walked away from a fight in his classroom that a much smaller woman on our team broke up. It has been disastrous.
The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I arrived at school to find out he had tendered his resignation. According to his resignation letter, he believed teachers were hindered by mindless paperwork (true), and he had no support from administration on issues of discipline. He thanked the sixth grade team for our help and support, then quietly left.
We decided to wait to tell the kids until we returned from Thanksgiving Break because we feared their sheer relief and joy would spur them into a chaotic frenzy. Though we had a sub in our former colleague's room, last Wednesday was one of the most peaceful days of the school year.
We returned on Monday only to remember we still had to inform the kids. We decided to wait until the end of the day so we could tell our homerooms. I was also elected to tell his homeroom since we had yet another sub in the room.
The reaction I got—that we all got—was stunning. Rather than celebrating with raucous behavior and shouts of glee, my kids were strangely quiet. I had only two comments from them:
"But he hasn't even said goodbye yet!"
"Did he leave because we were too bad?"
Both of these comments broke my heart, because regardless of my colleague's detachment and inability to accept responsibility for his failures, my kids felt something for him, some kind of respect and responsibility. Though his actions demonstrated only contempt and low expectations, there was something there with them.
How is it that my kids are feeling responsible where he does not? No one will say they were angels, but then they are kids. Who was responsible for maintaining that classroom and engaging the kids? Who had the charge of holding high expectations and helping all kids reach them? Who is now sitting at home, shaking his head at our school and our students?
To the little boy, a chubby, mischievious, hamster of a cutie who asked, "Did he leave because we were too bad?", I could only respond, "No, sweetie. He left because he realized he had made a mistake in continuing to work. He realized he should never have come out of retirement." Still, their quiet responses and concern about personal responsibility in the face of gross misconduct on the part of the teacher who failed them wounds me.
I wonder to myself if they will always carry this experience with them, and it makes me want to grab Mr. Evil by the collar and shake him until he gets it. "Do you not understand that you were here to adapt to them and not the other way around?" I'd scream. "You are the one who failed, not them. Live with that on your conscience."

