177. The Teachers’ Room

In most schools, there is a place where teachers can go to be away from non-teachers. They sit around a table or on a couch and talk freely. We (I almost wrote “you”) non-teachers are fine people; we shouldn’t be offended. But it’s nice for teachers to know that there is one place where they can hang out and hang loose. The parents may not mean to apply pressure and create stress. The children may really care about their teachers, and want teachers’ lives to be easy. But the teachers’ room, when free of non-teachers, is a place where that lack of stress, that ease can happen.
Teachers are conditioned to speak and behave differently when parents, children and other non-teachers are around. They occasionally change the subject quickly if an outsider enters the room. In many ways, we’re all in the same boat, but there are things teachers just don’t say or do when non-teachers are around. Sometimes a teacher is a parent. One year, I taught in the school where my daughter was a student. I never heard mention of my daughter’s name in the teachers’ room (though I’m quite sure only positive things would have been said about her).
Granted, some of the things said in the teachers’ room may be things that should never be said. They should never even be thought. Occasionally, there are nasty thoughts about people that get verbalized in the teachers’ room, and verbalizing them sometimes does more harm than good. But even some nasty thoughts are better when they’re given some fresh air.
As a volunteer, I sometimes eat lunch with children, and sometimes with teachers. I don’t think I’m being a double agent, and when I spend time with some of the parents after school, I don’t think I’m being a triple agent. Sometimes I invite the principal to parties I have. I don’t think that makes me a quadruple agent.
But there are times when I sense that there is something trying to happen in the teachers’ room, and my presence there is stopping it from happening. I am not employed by the school system. Teachers don’t have to answer to me; I’m not in a position to evaluate them.
But from a teacher’s point of view, maybe I’m someone who will talk to parents about what I hear. Maybe I’ll write an article about it. And so I make a point of listening for those times, and finding a way to make a subtle exit, leaving the teachers’ room as a sanctum. I urge you to do the same. Most of the discussions that take place in that sanctum, whether they’re about teaching or not, help to make school a better place for everyone who enters the building.

Similar Posts

  • 479. Jimmy

    Once in a while, I try to imagine what’s going on in a particular child’s mind. Today I thought about a child whom we’ll call Jimmy. Jimmy is slow. He’s a third grader who doesn’t really know all of the letters of the alphabet yet, and there are many other things most third graders know…

  • 29. Conferences

    At least twice a year, parents and teachers have conferences to discuss children’s progress. The conferences are mostly friendly encounters. There may be some anxiety at first (Am I parenting well? Am I teaching well?), but it doesn’t usually last long. Because these conferences are such a time-honored tradition, we are apt to forget an…

  • 328. A Letter to Pat

    The Pat I’m writing to is a fictional character – a composite of all the people who, for one reason or another, didn’t think I was doing a very good job teaching. Pat may have been a parent, a teacher, an administrator, or a child. There were more people who thought that way in 1969,…

  • 8. Mr. Blue

    When I graduated from college and landed a job as a teacher, I was given a new name: Mr. Blue. I didn’t like the name. To me, it wasn’t a symbol of respect. As far as I knew, plenty of people respected me, and none, so far, had called me “Mr. Blue.” Furthermore, I was…

  • 371. Housework

    I grew up thinking that the work my mother did didn’t really count – that my clothes were actually basically self-cleaning, that meals sort of cooked themselves, and that if I dropped something on the floor, it independently found its way to where it was supposed to be. If my mother complained, I thought that…

  • 381. Functional Families

    Everything’s relative. But having heard gruesome stories about what has been happening in some families, I think, in retrospect, that my family has been relatively functional. I think many families have been. It’s traditional, in my crowd, to blame one’s parents for one’s problems, but I’ve heard stories that make me grateful to my parents…