Dear Ms. X

Dear Ms. X,

I watched you last week.
I sat in your classroom
and I watched
your kids
I have some things
I need to tell you

I’m not quite sure how
to say all of this,
but here I go

I know
you go home each night
and plan for hours.

I know you search
the Internet for the newest
the coolest lesson plans.
You want to help
your students grow.

I know you fret over George,
who just doesn’t seem to get it,
and Danielle,
who puts her head down in your class
every day.

I know you worry intensely:
What will you do
for each of your students?
For Marco, who can’t decode
and for Michelle, who just arrived
from the Dominican Republic.

I know that you look at the tests
and you think about all that you will need
to “teach”
to get your students to do well.
You make lists
genres to cover
strategies to teach.
You create practice sheets
that look like the test
so your students will be
familiar.

I watched you the other day
sit next to Amy and suggest some books
on her “level” to read.
You walked away
crossing your fingers
that this time,
maybe this time,
Amy might read a book.

I watched you plan a unit,
imagining that this unit would be the one
that might get your kids writing,
and loving it.

Here’s where this gets hard.
I know you.
I know you all too well.
I watch you
every day.

And,
I was you.

I remember my
Max
and Kevin
and my LiangJia
and my Roderick.
I remember my countless nights of planning.
I remember
all the work I did.

What makes this hard is
that I have to tell you something
you probably don’t want to hear:

I have to tell you,
your time, your precious, precious time,
is being wasted.

You are
wasting
your time.

You have to stop teaching.

Simply,
your students are never going to achieve
at the levels you dream
and hope for when
you are the one doing all the work.

You have to stop teaching.

Your students need to
start doing
and struggling
and pondering.

Stop planning
those lessons
and activities and hoping
you will lead your students to new understandings.

Just stop

Have them do it.

Have them read.
Every day.

Have them write.
Every day.

Make them talk.
To each other.

Make them share.
With each other.

Watch them.
Listen to them.

Document what you see.
Fuel the flames of their intentions,
curiosities,
perplexities.

Stop teaching
for just enough time
for them to start
learning.

Think about it, Ms. X.
I know you’re scared.
But,
just dare.

Sincerely,
A Teacher, Colleague, Coach, and Mother.