On Topic: Why teachers matter

Here are three of my favorite bumper stickers of all time:

•  Hang up and drive.

•  Don't make fun of farmers with your mouth full.

•  If you can read this, thank a teacher.

Each of these goes to a core belief about how I think the universe should function - behave responsibly when operating large, dangerous fast-moving objects; be grateful to the people who bring to market what keeps us alive; and remember who took the time to learn the skills and patience to teach us the basic tool to learn almost everything else.

This last one keeps coming to mind as a large heap of the blame for the difficulties in schools today are laid at the feet of teachers. When, I want to know, did teachers become the bad guys?

Early last month Gov. Terry Branstad released his administration's “final” recommendations for boosting Iowa's education standards (and I'm sure you've read lots about them, so I won't go into the details here - but keep in mind what Mies van der Rohe said about where God and/or the devil lurk).

The cost for the first year was pegged at some $25 million.

For plenty of days before and since the recommendations' release, social media has been agog. One of the more prolific contributors to Twitter (at #iaedfuture, in case you want to join) has been Bridgette Wagoner, director of educational services for Waverly-Shell Rock Schools.

“We need a systemic change (of) focus, not just better STEM programs,” she wrote, referring to science, technology, engineering and mathematics education. “Can't just keep tweaking a broken system.”

In another tweet, Wagoner noted: “I see value in statewide cohesiveness, but I worry about flexibility to meet diverse local needs.” And later: “Ultimately we just need to step up locally and accept the responsibility for selecting and implementing quality.”

She has not been alone in her responsibility-should-be-local theme.

A number of others picked up on what they viewed as a key sticking point in the governor's recommendations.

“First emphasis was on teacher hiring & firing,” wrote one middle-school principal. As for the recommendation that third-graders be held back unless they meet a reading-skills requirement (i.e., pass a test), one teacher suggested that was “a weapon (to) threaten students, parents and teachers. Shameful.”

In an almost summing up of the governor's plan, one tweet from a science teacher concluded: “Nearly 1/3 of the $ in the new budget proposal (is) dedicated to assessments. Hope we'll be assessing the right stuff in a meaningful way.”

To quote another tweet on the subject, I add amen.

Please don't misunderstand: I am absolutely for making Iowa a nationwide leader in graduating students smarter than the average bear.

And common sense tells us we need a process to provide a work force with the abilities to read, understand, interpret and communicate; to add, subtract and extrapolate; and to know how to continue to learn new, different skills as the world evolves.

But let us remember on whose shoulders we pile practically all that workload.

It's probably here where I should confess that for two years and four days I was a teacher - high-school American lit and journalism. I also was the adviser to the school newspaper, with a student staff who most kindly could be described as rambunctious.

It was at a medium-sized high school in central Ohio, with a healthy mix of race and ethnic backgrounds. I was one of the youngest teachers on staff - closer in age to the students than the vast majority of other educators.

For the record, the pay was frightful. (When I tell people today what my annual salary was then, they think I must be dissembling, for effect. Sometimes, so do I.)

I believe, though, I did a good job. I showed up, I was prepared, we - the students and I - engaged in lively conversations about what the Puritans, F. Scott Fitzgerald, e.e. cummings and Paul Simon had to say to us and why it was worth expanding our perspectives.

What got me down, for the most part, were the massive class sizes and endless paperwork - all of which, to me, seemed ever-growing walls separating me from doing what I thought I was hired to do.

And what I recall most from those days as a high-school teacher? Me, alone, in front of 30-plus students per class, four to five classes a day, five days a week.

There was no “team.” There were no principals, no security guards, no school board members, no parents nor PTA supporters in those classrooms.

It was up to me and only me to show up every day with a plan - one that would snare the attention of as many of those students as I could. These were children whose minds already were packed with worry about where their parents might be or how they'd not been provided with breakfast again that morning or how they suspected that maybe they might be pregnant and what they were going to do about it ….

So the governor wants to make things better. Good - let's have that conversation.

But let's ensure we are paving the way for more fruitful learning and better prepared workers - whether for the plant floor or at a desk.

And not finding more ways to shackle the people on the front lines every day.

If you could read this, thank a teacher.