By David Wilkinson
Someday when I’m standing in one of the long lines outside the Pearly Gates awaiting admission, I won’t be a bit surprised to see a much shorter line of VIPs who are being welcomed with streamlined expediting and lots of fanfare.
When I finally get within sight of the reserved gate through which these persons have been joyfully passing, I expect to see a bright, neon sign flashing overhead that reads, “Special Admission: Public-School Teachers Only.”
As spring prepares to give way to summer and Melanie and I trek from Waco, Texas, to Boston to celebrate our younger child’s graduation from college, there are plenty of reasons for thanksgiving. Somewhere near the top of that list is a group of very special people — the women and men who shaped the lives of our two children as their public-school teachers in Louisville, Atlanta and Fort Worth.
All great teachers — and even average teachers — deserve recognition and support. But in my books the real heroes are those teachers who give their best every year to the children in our communities’ public schools. And among those heroes are followers of Jesus whose lives of service and sacrifice give witness to the God who loves all children.
One of those heroes of faith is my little sister, who this year celebrated 30 years of teaching elementary-school children in Middle-of-Nowhere, Oklahoma (no offense, Sis). The past 17 years have been devoted to teaching pre-K children. She loves teaching, and she loves children. After teaching other grades, she “thanks God every day” for the privilege of teaching four- and five-year olds. “They are bright-eyed, responsive and excited about learning,” she says. “And I get to watch them change over the course of a year in every way — physically, emotionally, socially and intellectually.”
Karen Wilkinson Sims leads a learning activity with her pre- kindergarten students at Fox Elementary in Fox, Okla.
|
But over the years the task has grown harder. Increasingly, children arrive for the first day of their formal education ill-prepared and already scarred by damaged and dysfunctional families. Parental involvement is a fraction of what it was when she began teaching. Even in a small community, she will go an entire year without ever meeting a child’s parent or guardian. But whether or not she personally meets other family members, she learns enough about the heart-wrenching realities her students go home to every day to make her weep as she prays for them by name.
She also knows the challenges faced by many of her colleagues across the country are much more daunting.
Last Sunday a member of our Bible-study class told us how exhausted his schoolteacher wife was as another school year wound down. It has been an especially tough year for Jane (not her real name). Despite excellent training, considerable experience and a deep devotion to her vocational calling, too often actual teaching seems to be the last thing she gets to in her weekly lesson plans. Every day she bravely wages an uphill battle with inadequate resources against overwhelming odds, hoping for at least a few windows of opportunity for learning to occur.
In a class of 22, half a dozen are “seriously emotionally disturbed” and constantly in trouble. Despite her best efforts, they spend about as much time in “ISS” — in-school suspension — as the classroom. Behavioral issues include physical violence, vulgar language and a disturbing disrespect for the teacher, for other students and for themselves. One student’s little brother was beaten to death by their mother’s boyfriend. Another was transferred into her class after his mother had threatened to kill his previous teacher.
And the list goes on.
“Good grief!” I said. “What grade does Jane teach?”
The answer was stunning: kindergarten.
There is plenty that is broken in our nation’s public-school system — and in our homes and neighborhoods. And, yes, there are plenty of teachers who are contributors to the flaws and failures of that system. But amid all that’s broken and flawed stand scores of heroes disguised as teachers.
I have no desire to blindly confer sainthood on public-school teachers. Nor do I wish to question the intentions of those Christian teachers who have opted for careers in private schools or to judge the motives of Christian parents who have the resources to send their children to private schools or to opt for home-schooling. There is good being done in lots of places by committed Christian teachers.
But when Meredith walks across the stage to receive her bachelor’s degree on Saturday, I’m going to breathe a quiet prayer of gratitude for the Christian women and men who serve as public-school teachers in America.
And, while I hope I won’t be queuing up outside the Pearly Gates anytime soon, when the time comes I’m going to be on the lookout for that neon sign welcoming a special group of heroes.