Two of our awesome paraprofessionals are walking around to classrooms today, passing out homemade charcuterie bundles to the teachers. I hear we are getting swag bags, and tomorrow there will be a taco bar for lunch. In fact, all week there have been special treats, events, and drawings here at the school. It is Teacher Appreciation Week, Dear Readers.
There’s a current of cynicism winding through the Appreciation Day/Week waters as of late. I do understand it — it is hard not to notice that the professions that garner these accolades tend to be of the overworked/undervalued/underpaid variety: nurses, first responders, school nurses/counselors/social workers/teachers. I have read and heard many a commentary on Appreciation Days running down the idea that a donut and a sparkle pen once a year makes up for paying us less than we are worth.
I do love a sparkle pen, though.
One could argue that this has been a Year of Rage (™ my friend Kate) for me, professionally. One could argue that fighting through a contract negotiation has colored the school year for my colleagues and myself. One could also argue that a yogurt parfait breakfast spread pales in comparison to that battle.
“One” would be wrong on that last point, in my humble opinion. When we are fed at school — whether it is by fellow staff members, the Parent/Teacher group, or by an outside entity — I feel cared for. I don’t have to plan breakfast or lunch for myself that day. The food is generally fancier or more surprising than I would bring for myself. The message I receive is, “I see you and what you give, let us nourish you.” I know I tend to err on the Sister Merry Sunshine of life, but I don’t think I’m off base.
Whoever decided that Teacher Appreciation should last for an entire week rather than a day has my thanks. Whoever decided that week should land in May — the marathon slog of a month in which students decide they are done learning and we teachers must plan a three ring circus to keep them on track every day — was an outright genius. Any teacher will tell you that the answer to every “why in the world would they…” question is simply, “MAY.”
Yesterday was tough. I had some behaviors in my class that blew me away, took me by surprise, made me question myself as a teacher. The day ended with The Puberty Talk, so by the time I was alone at my desk, trying to get through the online Science of Reading course we are all taking this year, my tank was on empty. Just at that moment, my principal and school secretary showed up at my classroom door with a Swag Bag — full of silly teacher baubles (and chocolate) to lift my spirits and make me smile. They even made sure I was the one who received the grammatically incorrect oven mitt (pictured below) because they knew that Loeffler would appreciate it the most.
Mothers are also celebrated in May — Mothers Day usually shows up at the beginning or end of Teacher Appreciation. I’ve already explained my theories on society’s views of “Women’s Work” so I won’t belabor the point here. Suffice it to say that it is not surprising the two are so close. May is also bananas for mothers: field trip, sports wrapping up, concerts and performances, planning for the summer. I have a senior this year, so this flurry of activity comes with a side of stress layered with big dollops of emotion.
We forget to say Thank You. Sure, a “Thanks!” comes out of our mouths, a reflexive response when we are given something — an answer, a compliment, a tissue — and we usually are genuinely grateful. I have noticed lately, however, that when I take a moment to stop and make eye contact when I give my thanks, something changes in that other person. They feel the thanks. They feel my gratitude, my appreciation. It matters. It’s simple, but it makes a lasting impact.
And never underestimate the value of a sparkle pen and a piece of chocolate.
Thanks for reading.
Love, Susie
Thanks for this view on appreciation. I, along with two of my coworkers, had children with significant behavioral issues at school this week. Come to think of it, the three of us are the only ones at work that have school/preschool-aged children, go figure. Good luck making it through these next 3 weeks!