on superheroes.

“With great power, comes great responsibility.” -Uncle Ben, Spiderman

Another recent teacher tale passed on by way of Big City, USA, is the case of the backpack.  Here’s the scenario.  Teacher A, let’s call her Mitsie, is struggling daily with student A, let’s call her Rainbow.  Each day, Rainbow disrespects Mitsie and completes minimal class work.  Mitsie is frustrated and seeks out her instructional coach for guidance.    

Coach asks Mitsie, “What do you think is at the root of Rainbow’s behavior?”  

Mitsie replies, “I’m not sure, what do you think?”

Coach reminds Mitsie, “You know Rainbow has issues at home, right?  She arrives to school without a backpack each day.  Maybe you should buy Rainbow a backpack.”

“Oh I didn’t think of that,” shared Mitsie.  

“Well sometimes you have to do what’s best for the child. C’mon, the child needs a backpack.”
Tears rolled down Mitsie’s cheek.  “Oh, okay.  Maybe that will help.”  

This case of the backpack is all too familiar.  We are not just teachers, we are all of the above.  We are superheroes with the weight of America’s future riding on our every move.  So they say.

Honestly, though, we are not superheroes.  We don’t have special powers to fly, move inanimate objects with our mind or turn back time.  Although we may be expected to act like superheroes, the universe has yet to grant us these special gifts.  

The universe has granted us compassion, empathy, motivation, integrity, and perseverance, along with several other must-have character traits of teachers.  These honorable (and human) traits change lives and inspire life-long learners.  

The teacher as superhero narrative saturates Pinterest, political rhetoric and gift shops alike.  I’m a teacher, what’s your superpower?  Or Keep Calm and Teach On. Okay, people, I appreciate the gratitude for educators, especially from the non-educators who too often remind us of how lucky we are to have paid vacation time.  “I know it must be exhausting, but at least you get paid to have summers off.”  But does calling us superheroes really inspire us?  Does it even validate us?  

No it does not.  We are professionals and want to be treated that way.  The expectation to become the superhero that the general public has so kindly named us, is quite frankly impossible.  Our primary role is to educate children, and although student success requires strong role models and relationships, it does not require teachers to be the 24-hour parent.  

As an urban educator of more than a decade, I know this may sound insensitive and maybe even uncompassionate, however, I think it needs to be said.  We are professionals, not magicians.  

What is our job?  To teach.  Obviously we lovingly play a mother/father role, a counselor’s role and a social worker every day, but our primary job is to educate students to read, write, problem solve and a million other skills necessary for future success.  

Parents, even in challenging situations, have to step up. Social workers and community outreach are available to support students in need of health care, after-school tutoring and transportation.  These services are in place for a reason.  Making a teacher question her devotion to her students for not buying a backpack is not only poor coaching, but it perpetuates the unsustainability of the profession.  

Chris Emden wrote a book, For White Folks Who teach in the Hood, and the Rest of Ya’ll Too: Reality Pedagogy and Urban Education.  He writes, “ I always say, if you’re coming into a place to save somebody then you’ve already lost because young people don’t need saving.”  

I think Mr. Emden is on point.  We are teachers, here to teach our students to effectively read, write and problem solve so that they have a voice and can positively impact society.  Giving in to the pressures of being both the parent, teacher, doctor and counselor around the clock doesn’t leave much room to be a great teacher.  Being your best teacher self should be a priority.  

In reality, when you don’t meet the superhero expectations, you are made to feel less than adequate.  Like any professional, it’s okay to say no.  You are allowed to have a personal life.  You don’t have to be a community service worker, a volunteer or a missionary.  

In the end, does buying a backpack for a child solve the behavior problem?  Probably not.  And when Rainbow starts to repeat the same behavior, Mitsie will wonder why she bought the backpack in the first place.  

Being compassionate, empathetic, motivated and committed to education is admirable enough! Until we are granted the superpowers to end poverty and social injustice, let’s stand proud in our powerful role as human teacher.  Power to inspire.  Power to educate.  Power to change lives.  

Power to the teacher.