Primer - Current Issue

Editor's note: With an estimated 1 million teachers from the Baby Boom generation expected to retire in the next few years, the U.S. Department of Education in September launched a new campaign to encourage young Americans to consider the teaching profession. In announcing the TEACH initiative, U.S. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan said, "We have a historic opportunity to transform public education in America by calling on a new generation to join those already in the classroom." This new effort rests on a growing body of literature attesting to the importance of quality teachers to student success. Attracting and retaining talented teachers will be a key issue as Ohio leaders work to maintain and strengthen the state’s education system in trying economic times. To remind us why some might consider teaching as a career, we asked a senior education student at Xavier University in Cincinnati to share her thoughts about teaching as she is about to enter the profession.

Choosing the endless hours and endless satisfaction of a teaching career

By Kira Hinkle
Xavier University

Today is my 39th day as a teacher. No. Let me rephrase that. Today is my 39th day as a student teacher.

Today at school, Twilight and Kingston, our two new pet parakeets arrived. The cage came in the morning (disco ball included) and the class anxiously anticipated the birds’ arrival all day long until they were finally delivered in the late afternoon.

Today at school, one of my students still didn’t turned in his three-day-late math problems, three of the nine students in my spelling group struggled with the concept of alphabetical order, and two of my students were delighted, ecstatic and overjoyed to learn that I checked out seven books by the author Roald Dahl from the public library for perusing during silent reading.

During recess two first-grade girls gave bracelets made out of the grasses in the wooded playground to me and the other teachers on recess duty.

At silent reading I cut out 12 rectangles of metal screening for our paper-making craft tomorrow afternoon and answered countless inquiries about what I was doing. With the mysterious response, “I’m getting ready for an activity tomorrow, I wonder what it will be,” almost every child walked away wide-eyed and smiling.

As the day wound down I collected my stacks of papers to grade: triangles by angle work that clearly demonstrated the need to re-teach the difference between an acute triangle and right triangle; dynamic addition sheets showing that many students are ready to start solving problems abstractly; labeled drawings of the parts of the volcano--the list goes on and on.

After school I drove straight to Xavier University for a 2½ -hour class about observation and assessment and spent an hour and a half of tonight’s class discussing the differences between formative, summative and performance assessment. In our five-minute break I jotted down a note to remember to bring my food processor to school to make pulp for tomorrow’s afternoon craft.

And now, as the sun is setting, I am able to sit down for a moment. Sitting still is something I’ve come to value to an extreme degree in these short 39 days. Quieting my mind is something I’m still challenging myself to work on. My mind is constantly spinning with new ideas, questions and concerns about my students, and ways to improve my lessons. It seems I am either thinking about a follow-up activity for a lesson or making one.

The hours I put in to student teaching are endless. But quite honestly, I couldn’t care less. Sure, I have moments where I am envious of my nine-to-fiver friends who are able to leave their responsibilities at work and go home regardless of where they are on their current to-do list. I have moments where I wish I had made that same choice — in fact, I almost did.

Before I went to school for Montessori education I was an art history major. I wanted to work in the world of art sales and dreamed of landing a job at Christie’s or Sotheby’s auctioning off art. My junior year of college I interned at a gallery where almost all of the prior interns graduated to these dream jobs. I was on my way. I’m not going to lie — there were parts that I adored. I loved the artists stopping by the gallery to discuss their new pieces, I loved installing exhibits and I loved the title.

But my daily existence was far from glamorous. Every morning I’d come to work and sweep the floor. Next, I’d dust the sculptures on display, clean the bathroom, run a magic eraser against all of the white walls and head to my office. In my office I’d answer emails, make follow-up calls with clients, proofread upcoming show advertisements and then I’d clean some more.

On paper, my job was fantastic. On paper, my job was creative, challenging, and trendy. But in the day-to-day it was boring and void of purpose. In the day-to-day, I was already sick of it and I hadn’t even made it an entire year. I needed a change.  After some serious soul-searching I found education, moved home to Cincinnati and started over.

So maybe I still have to crawl on hands and knees from time to time scrubbing at a beaten-up wall with a magic eraser but I do it for much more appreciative and important clients. The sculptures I dust are made with love and are waiting to be taken home by the artists to grace their living room fireplace mantle or a mother or father’s office desk. The exhibits I install have changed from oil on canvas to marker on construction paper. And a couple of weeks ago I attended the first art opening of the season: Parents Night.

I may only have a couple of months under my belt, but every single one of those days has been different. And I may work countless hours beyond the “40-hour-a-week” definition, but my energy level has never been so high.

Quite simply, elementary school is fun. Who didn’t like curling up to read a chapter book in the afternoon for 30 minutes every day, learning about the solar system, going on field trips, and anticipating the arrival of a new class pet? I feel as if I’ve found the adulthood loophole. I get to go to elementary school for the rest of my life. But more importantly I get to help make all of these wonderful, positive memories happen for my students. 

So when my friends ask me how I can bear the workload, I often reply, it certainly doesn’t feel like a workload when you spend your evenings canvassing the shelves of discount bookstores for next week’s reading group. And it certainly doesn’t feel like a workload when you get to see a child who has been struggling tirelessly to answer questions in complete sentences suddenly turn on the switch.

Yesterday two of my students intently discussed the meaning of the word googol. Is it a website or a number? Perhaps it’s both? As they debated back and forth I took in the moment and watched them attempt to find an answer. In all reality there is nothing very significant about this moment. This is not one of the often cited “aha moments” that teachers refer to when asked about why they do what they do. This is quite an average conversation in my classroom. But it’s the conversation’s normality that makes it so significant — this is my everyday. Asking questions, seeking answers, debating, observing and discovering. The students teach me every day to ask questions, find wonder in our world and to relax and have fun.

While the hours may be endless and the pay may be less than ideal, the lessons I’ve learned from my students are worth more than I could ever earn. So tomorrow is day 40; maybe if I’m lucky I will make it to a googol.

Learn more about the TEACH initiative »

About the Author

Kira Hinkle is a senior Montessori education major at Xavier University and is currently student teaching at The New School Montessori in Cincinnati. During her studies she has focused on peace education including grant work and working with children in Taiwan. The only child of two college professors, Hinkle grew up in Oxford, Ohio, and studied art history and public and professional writing as an undergraduate at the University of Pittsburgh before transferring to Xavier. She is the chair of Alternative Breaks, a student organization that sends XU students on service learning trips around the world during their spring breaks. Hinkle hopes to work in an elementary Montessori classroom in the Cincinnati area after graduation.