This Email to a High School Softball Coach Pretty Much Sums Up Teaching in 2023
And honestly, it’s more respectful than a lot of what teachers and coaches get
Any educator with more than 20 years of experience will tell you that 2023 will be a completely different scenario.
It can be challenging to narrow down the several causes. However, a letter published lately by Jasone Pearce Media did a wonderful job of summarising how the general population feels about us.
This email was sent to the softball coach at Ridge Point High School on a Sunday morning following a defeat the night before; it’s unclear if it came from a parent or a “fan.” Ridge Point has a highly excellent softball programme, as evidenced by the fact that they had maintained a 20-6 victory record before to that defeat. However, the author of this email disagrees. You may see for yourself here:
The people on the sidelines think they’re the expert.
Unbelievably many adults today believe that simply watching something gives them the authority to comment on it. I’m not sure how this came to be. It’s obvious that the author of this email believes they have coach-level knowledge because they are a fan who “never missed a home game.” Similar to how watching Grey’s Anatomy makes you a surgeon, I suppose.
It doesn’t matter how skilled you are—so many parents and community members see you as subordinate to their whims.
Prior to the defeat the night before, this coach had a 20-6 winning record. Twenty victories is a remarkable record, not just a really good one. But for the person who wrote this email, it didn’t matter. The writer was in a position to coach the coach after one defeat.
Similar to this, even the best teachers encounter absurd demands, scrutiny, and antagonism. I can think of dozens of instructors I know—teachers I would personally want to instruct my child—who are wasting critical prep time and mental capacity coping with demanding parents. 2020’s National Teacher of the Year Rodney Robinson urges parents to “model the behavior you want” in an open letter to parents.
Their perception is reality.
I don’t believe I am acting disrespectfully.
To put it simply, “I just think you don’t know how to put the right people in at the right moment.”
I merely wanted to inform you of the cause of your varsity team’s defeat.
There is no request for cooperation. There is no space for error. There is no acknowledgement of knowledge or inquiries regarding tactics. The statement reads, “I decided why you lost, I know more than you, and I’m going to assume you want me to tell you.” (Side note: I’m quite interested in the writer’s idea of what the coach saw when he opened his email. Gratitude? “Oh, wow! I didn’t know why we lost, but I’m glad our devoted supporter who has never missed a home game decided to let me know!”)
This email demonstrates a predicament teachers encounter.
It highlights how teaching has become a customer service industry.
A significant change in the function of families in schools has occurred recently. Where once parents could march in with a list of demands for their child, it is now a space where teachers, administrators, coaches, and staff may share their professional opinions in working with families. Instead of being an educational institution that serves children, teaching has frequently evolved into a business that caters to parents. This is how Alexandra Robbins puts it in her book The Teachers:
“An increasingly apparent sense of ‘us-versus-them’ mindset has been seen alongside parents mistreating instructors. Many parents perceive teachers as barriers or hurdles to jump over between childhood and adulthood, rather than welcoming them with a cooperative “It takes a village” approach to educate and nurture their children.