Oh Captain My Captain

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I don't know about you, but I became a teacher because I had grand ideas of how great it would be to inspire kids to passionately explore new learning. I was disproportionally influenced by the movie Dead Poets Society. I held on to the fantasy that one day my students would stand on their desks and "Oh, Captain me," as I tearfully exited the room, knowing I had changed lives.

(Footnote 1: I am very dramatic. Footnote 2: I may suffer from a Messiah Complex. Footnote 3: If you don't know the "Oh Captain My Captain" reference, you can see it here.)

The problem with pursuing a profession based only on the information you glean from a movie is the movies leave out a few things. Whether it is Stand and Deliver, Lean on Me, Dangerous Minds, Freedom Writers, or even yes, School of Rock (fantastic movie!), viewers only get to see the hero's journey aspect of the teaching profession. The movies leave out the other stuff:

  • Angry parent phone calls

  • Last minute schedule changes

  • Lack of substitutes

  • Really long IEP meetings on Fridays

  • Pointless staff meetings

  • Annoying internet filters

  • Stupid policies clearly put in place because of one slacker

  • The list can continue...

You know, the other stuff. The crappy stuff. The stuff we didn’t know was a thing when we signed up.

But the Oh Captain My Captain stuff is the good stuff. And it's real. I mean, kids may not be getting up on desks for us (I would love to see that at Durango!), but there are little points in most days that harken to it.

Whether your job is to run down ADE reports, figure out why the toilet is backing up again, or teach a group of kids who can't read how to interpret a poem, you have micro Oh Captain My Captain moments every day. You are creating systems, environments, and/or learning episodes for kids who have never had such experiences. And they are showing up, engaging, and learning.

Tell THOSE stories more because that is why you came here. And why you choose to stay. That doesn’t mean we ignore the crappy stuff. Keep surfacing it and working and advocating for it to change. But the crappy stuff doesn’t have to be our story. Our story is different, and you are worthy of a desk stand.