What do you do?
When you reached adulthood, however long ago that was, did you notice that you faced a rather unnerving question?
It is a question that bubbles out of curiosity, a need for small talk, and, sometimes, comparison. All adults ask the question and all adults have the question asked of them, “What do you do?”
Initially, this question seems trivial, passive, and non-threatening. Under greater analysis though, we can see how this curiosity may create angst in the responder. For the stay-at-home mother, the head games begin and she wonders if her response will be met with disapproval that she doesn’t work outside the home. For the working mother, the panic of wondering if her response will be met with scrutiny for not staying home. What does the stay-at-home dad say in a culture that still struggles with permitting dads to be active fathers? Imagine the panic of the college student with a math degree who works at Starbucks. The lawyer fears being marginalized as rich, argumentative, and unfriendly. The doctor worries about being asked every WebMD question that will surely follow. No matter the job, answering the question, “What do you do?” is often not as simple of a response as one might think.
This has been one of my life’s thorns - wondering how best to answer that question. I hem-haw and hesitate, I stutter and sway, and I almost always fear the response to my response.
Here is a real anecdote to prove my point.
Someone, often a stranger or brief acquaintance, will ask me, “What do you do?”
I exhale, “I teach. High school.”
Then, I brace myself.
Sometimes I’m met with “Really?” Other times, it is “Oh” or “Wow.” But most often, the response is, “Why?”
By the end of the conversation, the questioner is most often left wishing they hadn’t asked “why?” because, as a teacher, I am very good at answering questions. I often wonder if the cornered questioner just expected me to respond, “Because of holidays and summer vacation,” or “You know, it just kind of happened and now I’m stuck because of the pension.”
No, from me, the questioner hears a shortened version of the following:
“Because I love it.” I wouldn’t want to do anything else. Where else can one work where they are literally staring the future in the eyes? Where else can one work where they interact with some of the world’s most ingenious people? Where else can one work where they get to watch such profound growth?
I teach because 170+ students walk in and out of my door every day. These are teenagers who will soon be inventors, engineers, nurses, administrators, parents, politicians, CEOs, etc. These are the kids who will one day walk people through buying a car, selling a house, earning a college degree, trading stocks, adopting a child, and growing a community. These are the ones who will be a voice for the voiceless, who will stand up for justice, who will give to the less fortunate, and who will work for causes that bring hope.
Why wouldn’t I want to teach? That is the better question. I get to spend a year working alongside some of the smartest, most passionate people of today and of tomorrow. I have a small, but important window with these current and future leaders where I have the privilege of speaking into their lives. And while some might immediately jump to the conclusion of a backward teacher indoctrinating and ruining these kids with wacko ideas and personal agendas, I am quick to clarify to the questioner that I, too, have something to learn from each one of them. They have the power, and, in my classroom, the right to speak into my life.
Many of my students are smarter than me. I have no problem admitting that. I have future engineers in my classroom – I hope they are smarter than me at math and science and innovation. I have future nurses in my classroom – I hope they are smarter than me at anatomy and science. I have future translators in my classroom – I hope they can read, write, and speak in French, German, or Spanish. I have opportunities to learn from them; they know things that I do not know. If I give them that opportunity to teach me, to teach others, to be passionate about something, I do not care if they are smarter than their teacher.
This is where the questioner is often perplexed. They are probably thinking back to when they were in school and how they thought all their teachers were smarter than them.
But, if I am passionate about teaching and I am doing my job correctly, shouldn’t my students be smart? Shouldn’t they be learning? And shouldn’t they be able to, in return, teach me something? If I am setting up these leaders with the skills to critically think, wouldn’t I want them to practice such skills in a setting that is safe?
Once I hit that point, the questioner somewhat agrees with a slight nod. It is here where I “bring it home.”
You see, my students know that I believe in them. I say and prove it all year. I give them opportunities to take risks, make mistakes, and have an opinion. I address their need to believe in themselves. We discuss their work ethic, their confidence, their integrity, and their self-worth. We study a variety of topics, opinions, religions, beliefs, and dreams and we value opinion that is only backed by research, commentary, sound argument, and facts. We look at biases and try not to have our own. We believe in the good of humanity but we expect our peers to falter at times. We collaborate, encourage, and cheerlead. While we cherish individualism, we recognize the importance of community, teamwork, and unity. We give our all. Sure, we complain at times, but, remember; we expect to falter at times. No need to hold unrealistic expectations of ourselves or others- we will only be disappointed. We learn to love each other; sure, we might not always like each other, but we cannot deny our respect for each other. That is why the goodbye at the end of the year is so heartfelt. It is why all the studying, planning, grading, and learning is worth it. It is why all the frustration, anger, and anxiety is worth it.
As a teacher, answering the question, “What do you do?” is worth it if the questioner hears the heart, the call, and the passion from someone in the trenches. Too often, teachers, as a whole, are lumped into categories where very few belong. I realize that this is likely similar for every type of job. Too many individuals are working in a field that few appreciate or try to understand. I realize this as I now respond to the same question differently: instead of “teacher,” I respond with “pastor” and “writer.” Those responses have their own three-page explanations, too.
I guess I am challenging us all to do two things:
Don’t make assumptions about people’s jobs, callings, or passions because of one bad apple, one negative experience, or one scary news report.
Appreciate teachers. They know they are not doing enough. They know that elements of education are a mess. They realize that there will be kids who slip through and it eats them alive. They overwork, overthink, and they overexert themselves almost every day.
Teacher Appreciation Week is coming: May 2-6, 2022. What can you do? Reach out with authentic gratitude. Connect on social media with one of your past teachers or reach out to your child’s current teacher. Pray for the schools and teachers in your neighborhood. Drop doughnuts or coffee off. Write an old-fashioned thank-you note. If you currently have kids in school, make it a weekly habit to pray for their teacher and the entire school staff. And, next time you find yourself in a social situation where you ask the question, “What do you do?” and someone responds, “I teach,” please smile and thank them for making a difference in this difficult world. And, if you ask me what I do…well, brace yourself for a three-page explanation.
Until next time friend,
