And Care and Care and Care

The Sisyphean struggle of being a teacher

As an elementary school teacher, I have always likened myself to a veterinarian: I teach it all. From science experiments to Shakespeare, I'm responsible for preparing my fifth-grade students for their next academic adventure: middle school (junior high). When I was 12 years old, I hated middle school. I barely remember any of my teachers and have vivid memories of being shoved in lockers and relentlessly bullied. High school was better, but it wasn’t a clean slate for me (and I presume many others). The bullies and budding cliques in middle school, transferred with me to high school.

I wasn’t a good student. I tried to keep my head down and follow the directions. My dyslexia meant that I wasn’t a great reader, and prevented me from enjoying any of my literature classes. I did just enough to pass without creating any fond, core memories.

Now, I teach ten-year-olds. I’ve worked hard to develop a love of literature. I’m no polymath, but I enjoy learning. I strive to improve my pedagogy and embrace the never-ending challenge of simultaneously helping my students get excited about their own learning, and finding some level of joy in each of our academic content areas.

In Peter Shull’s excellent novel, Why Teach?, a character notes:

There are people in the profession for the students, and others in it for the material.

She posits that there are “student” teachers, those solely dedicated to their students, and “content” teachers, those who are more concerned with their academic canon. As a K-5 teacher, I’ve never had the chance to tie myself to only one academic area. I didn’t major in creative writing or American history. I spent my college (and post-grad) years learning how students learn. I wanted to teach young students; not be an English or Mathematics teacher. And, with most teacher-preparatory programs, I was not prepared for Sisyphean struggle of being an elementary public school teacher.

I’ve straddled the line between believing in the power of public education for the sake of my students, and turning into the jaded veteran teacher who has lost hope in kids. Still, I make no apologies for being a teacher. It is a continual exercise in both/and. Teaching is both an inspiring profession and an impossibly challenging career. I can’t just be a teacher; my responsibilities require me to be an always-adaptive chameleon.

At a climatic moment in Why Teach? Shull’s protagonist, William Able, lists his expected responsibilities to his students.

To deal with student A’s irresponsibility, and B’s misbehavior. C, D, and E’s substance abuse problems, F’s dyslexia and G’s anger. H’s lack of faith in herself, I and J’s sureness that what I was offering wasn’t for them. K and L’s insecurity about their weight, M and N’s eating disorders. O’s male body image issues. P, Q, and R’s confusion about their sexuality. Autistic S’s frustrations about his inability to understand social norms and cues. T’s anger at the rest of the class slowing her education down; U’s bullying, V’s being bullies. W and X being sure their athletic prowess would carry them through life (it wouldn’t), and Y and Z’s inability to stay awake in class because they were working too many hours outside of school to help their parents make ends meet.

Let me count the ways. If only there were more letters in the alphabet!

To continually care about each of my students’ social, emotional, and academic well-being is to slowly roll an enormous boulder up a steep hill, only to watch it roll down, and start again. Unlike Sisyphus’ punishment for repeatedly cheating death and tricking the gods, teaching isn’t a futile task. Our influence on our students’ lives may be invisible, but it is not pointless. Teachers are like Sisyphus in one way, as philosophized by Albert Camus: we will continue to care (and even find happiness) within the absurd conditions of the public education system. We endure because we care. We triumph over the constant possibility of hopelessness and ridiculousness.

One always finds one's burden again. But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks. He too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night-filled mountain, in itself, forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays

The alternative, being angry and incredulous, is tempting. Not every teacher enters the profession because of a higher calling to be of service. It is reasonable to question one’s working conditions, especially those as frustrating as in public schools. Teachers are expected to raise test scores while simultaneously juggling myriad responsibilities unrelated to teaching and learning. There are innumerable considerations in a classroom of 30 students, from state-mandated accommodations to providing just enough individualized support for students to be successful. So it makes sense when Shull’s protagonist, Mr. Able, suffers compassion fatigue, while he is subjected to patronizing treatment that “winnow[s] away [his] strength and spirit.”

At the beginning of Able’s epiphany, he verbalizes the problem:

…and care and care and care and care. — You have to! They need you! — as if this caring was a sort of payment, virtue as its own reward, and not, in fact a type of fee, or toll, taxing me and drawing me down.

Is the cost of caring too much? Why should Able (or any teacher) care when educators are constantly lambasted for complaining too much, not doing enough for students, and showing ingratitude? Teachers should push that boulder uphill, keep our mouths shut, and be happy. If teachers don’t like it, they should quit and get a real job.

This might be my favorite part of Why Teach? To teach, or not to teach? That is the question Able is struggling to answer. The urgency and futility of such a question pushes him to break through his decision paralysis. Instead of living in the world of ambivalence, Able chooses to care about his life. The brilliance of Shull’s writing is that we, the reader, stumble upon Able’s realization at the same time he does. Instead of indecisively waffling, choosing to be a “student” teacher versus a “content” teacher, all the while battling the Catch-22 bureaucracy of the public education system, Able acts. He chooses humanity because, in the end, that is all that really matters. He continues to do the work of being a teacher who believes in the humanity of teaching and learning. He continues to grow and meet his students where they are because that is what teachers do. Teaching may feel like a Sisyphean task; we may leave each day feeling ineffectual, but working with youth, helping them grow, isn’t fruitless.

Why Teach? isn't just a campus novel. Shull creates a deeply human protagonist trying to survive a dehumanizing system. He pulls readers into the very real world of public education, sharing honest observations without succumbing to cynicism. Through Mr. Able, Shull reminds me that I don’t have to be ambivalent between teaching and making a difference in my students’ lives. Even through banned curricula materials, mandated professional development workshops, and meaningless teacher evaluations, teachers will always choose to teach because that is what matters. Teaching our academic content versus teaching our students is a false dichotomy. Why teach? Because teaching is an act of care; the more I teach toward the humanity of my students, the more I lead my students to care about themselves and their learning.

I will continue to care and care and care.

Have a great week!

— Adrian

Resources

• I’m not sure why this video on Albert Camus is age-restricted. I have learned so much from Alain de Botton’s School of Life YouTube channel. This one is particularly interesting, combining a bit of biographical history of Camus and a primer on his philosophical views. If you like this, you may also like reading The School of Life’s articles. You can filter by topics such as self-knowledge or work.

• Camus is most famous for his quote about Sisyphus. If you are unfamiliar with the myth, this TEDEd video is fantastic. In fact. TEDEd has a video series of myths from around the world. I don’t teach mythology personally, but I use TEDEd videos in my classroom often.

• If you haven’t already, I highly recommend you subscribe to Peter Shull’s lower midlist newsletter. Before publication of Why Teach?, he serialized it on Substack, giving subscribers a chance to read one chapter at at time.

Why I Keep Teaching

• Feeling a bit low or burned out? I enjoyed this edutopia OpEd by veteran teacher, Rachel Jorgensen. Sometimes it is good to hear the positive aspects of being a teacher, especially when the challenges can feel overwhelming.

• Trevor Muir always makes great motivational videos! Muir’s book, New Teacher Mindset, co-written with John Spencer, is a great summer read for refreshing your mindset and shifting your perspective after a challenging school year.