Growth

1.04.11 By Neema Avashia

Every year, another teacher at my school gets that look on his or her face. You know the look if you’ve seen it—it’s the look of being stuck. Of feeling like you’re not getting satisfaction out of your work the way you once did, and like no matter how hard you work, or what positive results you get, it doesn’t counteract the frustration you feel over particular aspects of your job. I start to panic when I see good teachers get that look. I know that too often, that look is followed by a quick exit from the building, if not from the profession. And I try my hardest to unstick them through encouragement, seeking out solutions, philosophical conversations, mid-week meals, end-of-week libations, etc. But while I might sometimes succeed in delaying the exit, I never succeed in preventing it from happening entirely. It happens. Good people leave, and with them, the strong relationships and quality instruction that have positively impacted so many kids. And because I’m a control freak, and because, according to my kids, I “take everything to the head”, I have a hard time dealing with those exits. They make me mad, even as I know that the people leaving aren’t at fault for doing so. They’re part of a system that pays virtually no attention to teacher growth, and if the choices are a) feel stifled, or b) leave, what are they supposed to do?

What other profession exists where there are so few avenues available for growth? If you’re a teacher in Boston, there are only two obvious routes to growth at present—either you change grade levels/content/schools, or you move into administration. That’s it. Occasionally you’ll meet a brave teacher who is trying to navigate a hybrid role—part-time teacher, part-time coach, or part-time teacher, part-time curriculum developer, etc. But those teachers have had to invent opportunities where few, if any, really existed, and frequently feel as though there is little to no support available to facilitate hybrid roles. Principals don’t always know how to use half-time teachers effectively. And truthfully, “half-time teaching” is a kind of funny idea in a job where every waking hour can be spent on work if you don’t set limits. My road to growth has been equally complicated—it means trying to balance a full-time job teaching kids with a part-time job teaching adults. I do it because it puts me in frequent interactions with new teachers, whose growth curve is exponential, and thereby continually pushes my own growth… but professional growth for me comes at the cost of reading for pleasure, sleeping adequately, and watching Grey’s Anatomy when it actually airs, instead of on Hulu over the weekend.

Plenty of models exist for creating a differentiated career ladder for teachers, yet none of them has gained traction on a district level. Meanwhile, every time an excellent mid-career teacher leaves the profession, their kids and their colleagues lose out. I’m tired of seeing the stuck look on my colleagues’ faces. I’m ready for a clearly articulated, transparent, well-publicized professional growth trajectory for teachers that allows them to continue growing within our profession, and thereby, continually find better ways of enhancing student learning.