I admire my retired friends who go back into the classroom.

My book club and mystery-trip group are filled with educators who could venture back into the hallways of academia. Some do!

Not me.

Teaching has changed. As I occasionally scroll through Facebook and X, I see some alarming posts. Teachers complaining about student behavior being out of control. Abysmal test scores. Teachers resorting to antics that appeal to their students’ desire to be entertained. Poor attendance. Teachers testifying to how bad the educational environment is, and many blaming parents who don’t have expectations for their children or who don’t believe the kids could ever do anything wrong.

Videos with hallway fights, classroom fights, and even teacher-student fights pop up on my feed fairly regularly, too.

I’m not interested.

When I was in the classroom, my M.O. was to treat my students with respect and expected it from them toward everyone else, as well. Establishing a “Learning Community” was important for all our success. I shared those expectations with my classes, along with the charge to them that they let me know if I failed to live up to my own expectations.

During the first week, I talked about how people have to feel safe in order to learn.  Physically and emotionally. I tried to listen to their needs and respond promptly and fairly to them. I tried to fill my classroom with interesting objects and wall art to satisfy or build curiosity in my kids. I also tried to keep students busy with interesting work that would keep them from wanting to insult or harm each other. Or me.

I believe that.

Mostly, my approaches seemed to work. I’m sure I got it wrong sometimes.

Once, a student threw a cell phone at me. And another student threw a desk once, too, but just across the room- not at me or anyone else.

That was before I learned about trauma-informed approaches to teaching. And there’s a lot of trauma that impacts kids’ lives these days

Right now, I’m rereading The Fourth Turning, by William Straus and Neil Howe (1997). It’s not a new theory, but it’s one that has resurfaced with new terminology in many centuries and cultures. The idea is that each of four cyclical generation types has unique characteristics that impact the children born into them. Those traits go on to impact how each unique generation behaves and raises its children, who react in predictable ways.

I’m at the end of the Boomer generation. That’s three generations away from the kids who’d be in my classroom. Three generations away from pop culture, current lingo, and stylish fashion. I see that with my granddaughter, who is only ten and who surprises me with what I don’t know every time we talk.

That’s too wide a gap for me to manage with thirty kids in a classroom. 

I don’t want to be cool– or whatever word kids use today. I don’t want to be stylin’; I’d rather go for classic, clean, and presentable. I don’t want to use words and phrases that kids understand; I’d rather teach them some older ones.

I especially don’t want to be my students’ friend. Never did; never was.

According to the book, though, I might have more in common with them than I’ve had with the previous generations. Like baldness and green thumbs, that’s supposed to skip a generation, too. Maybe that’s best reserved for my granddaughter.

No, it’s time to let younger teachers have their day in the classroom. Let them have their successes and make their mistakes, just as I did. My days in the classroom are over.

And I’m okay with that.

It means my office shelves can be swept of all the books on writing instruction, how to engage male students, The Hero’s Journey, literature instruction methodology, Writing Workshop, grammar rules, and mentor texts. I can pass along the last of the professional development resource books and clean out the closet of all the workshop materials stuffed into a plastic tub. Even the small crate of foam dice can go out the door.

Actually, I’m kinda more than just okay with that.

I’m excited!

Just think of all the space I’ll have for new interests and supplies!

Hey, intaglio printing press. Yes, you, there, still in the box! You’re next on my list!