The Myth of the Perfect Student and Perfect Teacher

Somewhere, there is a teacher on a road trip with her mom on the way to her first year of teaching in a place she’s never been. There is a curriculum agent trying to figure out if they have all the right books. There are moms showing up for contacting for the first time, wondering how to keep the contact paper from bubbling or just sticking to itself. There are cleaning days being planned, welcomes being wondered about, school supplies being bought. And among it all, there are high hopes for a good school year.
 
What makes a good year? I’m not going into that, but I will mention one thing I’ve been thinking about that contributes to a bad year, and that is the myth of the perfect student and perfect teacher.
 
Some of us are more susceptible to this myth than others. I am among that number. Through the years I have slowly been loosening my grip on this perception, but it’s not been easy.
 
We all know on some level that children will be children. They are not converted, they have free will, they will make mistakes and bad choices, no matter how good their training has been. But on another level, teachers and parents fall prey to the false belief that if we have trained them well enough, they will be perfect. And that’s what I want to talk about.
 
I have been there myself, walking into a classroom as a brand-new teacher filled with high ideals, reveling in the feel of a smooth red pen making flourishes on a paper, delighting in the bulletin board that actually turned out, excited to greet my pupils on the first day.
 
But it doesn’t take long for reality to come crashing down. Whispers, paper wads, messy handwriting, children out of their seats without permission, shoving in line at the water fountain, disrespectful answers. And standing in front of the class in complete shame, the new teacher who internalizes each correction she has to make as being a failure.
 
At after-school hashing out sessions, the new teacher might only confide in other teachers who have the same amount of experience she does because it’s too intimidating to share problems with the more experienced teacher who clearly has attained perfection. Please don’t go down this line of thought. Every teacher is a unique individual. Each one has a different style of working with children. If you talk to the experienced teacher, you’ll likely be amazed at how well she understands the problem you’re facing. She’s probably had to work through it herself. She will, in all likelihood, tell you that you are dealing with imperfect students. You are not necessarily the problem.
 
So when the first board meeting comes around, or the third or the fourth, and the schoolboard chairman asks how things are going, she says, “Fine! It’s going OK,” because admitting that she’s not sure how to handle the problem makes her feel like she’s a disaster, that maybe she shouldn’t be teaching in the first place. When the parents show up for PTM, she tells them the same thing. “Jared is doing just fine!” And when they leave, she tells herself that Jared is doing fine. It’s she who is the failure. If she could just do everything well enough, Jared would have no problems at all. And if she admits to having a problem with him, the whole world will know that she can’t do her job.
 
It's important for a teacher to realize that she is absolutely right. That she is in charge of the class. That the students’ behavior is contingent upon her own ability to take responsibility for what she allows them. That she needs to be consistent, loving, and worthy of respect. But it’s also important to be open with your schoolboard about the problems you are facing. It is not strange to have struggles in your classroom, but those struggles cannot be helped as long as you keep letting your schoolboard believe that you have perfect students.
 
PTM is just as scary for the parents as it is for the teachers. I am a believer that it is important to tell the parents all the things their child is succeeding in, but it’s also important to be honest about where they are struggling. I’m not sure if parents are fully cognizant of how intimidating it is for a new teacher to tell them negative things about their child. Most have to work up tremendous courage to mention small things. This often applies more to behaviors than to academics. But being transparent about the things you are working on with a student is important for the good of the child. I have heard horror stories from teachers about dramatic and terrifying reactions from parents, but in all my years of teaching I have not once had a parent become angry and defensive at me when I have tremblingly brought up a problem I’m experiencing with their child. What we imagine in our heads is usually much worse than the reality.
 
And so we as teachers build up the idea of the perfect school, the perfect class, the perfect student because our own fear of vulnerability keeps us from admitting the problems. Our own ideas of perfection insist that we are the reason things aren’t working. Maybe we are, but if we aren’t open about the hard stuff, it’s even harder for others to know how to help us. And there are many, many times when it isn’t anything we’re doing wrong. It’s just the normal problems of dealing with human nature. For some teachers, it takes years to learn how to differentiate between whether it is a teacher problem or a student problem. Humbly sharing what’s actually going on with our support group of co-teachers and board and parents is an incredible help in sorting out how to proceed.
 
I’d like to make a mention of appreciation to my schoolboards throughout the years who have made notes when I’ve mentioned a problem I’m having with a student and brought it up at the next meeting and asked how it’s going now. Sometimes a problem is brought up that isn’t a big deal, just because the teacher needs something to say at board meeting. Sometimes the problem is ongoing, but there is no obvious answer, and the teacher doesn't bring it up again because what is the point of mulling the same thing over and over every single time? But it is helpful for everyone involved to be current on the situation. I’ve had schoolboards ask before if I need a solution, or if I’m just sharing, and I’ve appreciated the clarity and perception of this question. Also, a note of thanks to the parents who check in after PTM and ask how their child is doing in the areas we discussed. This open relationship makes working through anything that comes up much easier.
 
And while we need to accept that no student is perfect, it’s also important to love them with their imperfections. Admit to yourself that there are days they drive you to the point of pulling out your hair, but look for the things you love about them, too. Write down a physical list. Drop notes in your students’ workbooks saying what you appreciate about them. Call out the good choices they make on the playground or while standing in line. Thank them for being responsible in little ways.
 
You might have students that are hard to love. Don’t be deterred. Pray for love for them. Kneel by their desk, breathe a prayer over the paper you’re having a hard time deciphering, whisper a plea to the Father amidst the chaos on the playground. He knows the students in your care are human and you are, too. He will let their faults smooth the edges off your own. There is no shame in not having a perfect class, there is no embarrassment in having imperfect students. There is also no disgrace in admitting you, too, are a real, genuine, imperfect human.
 
So I’m telling you what I wish someone had told me my first years of teaching. Don’t be fooled by the myths of perfection. Don’t assume that everyone around you believes that the students in your room are ideal and you are the failure. Don’t believe that you have to perform perfection.
 
Be humble, be open, be vulnerable, and lean into your relationship with the Lord as you enter your classroom.
 
Wishing each one of you a truly great year!