Teacher To Teacher

By Lindsey Acton, Director of New Teacher Member Experience As you a re reading this, you’re probably in the first month of your school year —m aybe even the first week or two. You’re a new teacher, which means that , at some level, you’re still adjusting to expectations, procedures, and being in charge of a whole bunch of children who don’t belong to you. This can be daunting, and it can feel like you’re never going to get the hang of this new life you’re living. It’s been a couple months since we gathered for New Teacher Chat, but thinking about th e adjustment period you’re in, and how you ’re learning to establish yourself in your role as a ...

By Lindsey Acton, KDP Director of New Teacher Member Experience I went to dinner with some friends last night—some who are teachers and some who are not, but all who are supporters of my husband and me, and therefore of teachers everywhere. This was the first time we’ve seen many of them in a good while because of COVID-19 hitting our homes, and because life . . . is life. It was the first time I’ve been able to talk with them about my decision to leave the classroom and what I do here at KDP. Naturally, as it often does in this current climate, the conversation turned to why teachers are leaving. T he friend at the table who is also a teacher really ...

Being a teacher and loving being a teacher might be the two most complex sets of emotions I’ve ever felt. You, too? On the days they intersect, it’s great, right? On the days you love being a teacher, and on the days that you don’t feel like the system is sucking you in, and on the days that your teaching is firing from all cylinders, it’s like magic. It feels so good. But we all know that being a teacher and loving being a teacher are different, don’t we? We all know that you can be something and not love it every day. We all know that you can be something and love only certain parts of it. And we all know that you can love kids, love teaching, and sometimes ...

When I walked out of my classroom for the last time, my thoughts were so muddled and messy that if someone had asked me what I wish I had known as a first-year teacher that I knew on that day, I wouldn’t have been able to answer the question. I wouldn’t have been able to say that I had advice for a new teacher that was relevant or specific. I wouldn’t have been able to share any sage wisdom because my heart was shattered as my classroom door was closing behind me, and as I was turning off my lights for the final time as the person whose name was on the plate outside that classroom door. There was such finality and such pain in that act that if I had needed to ...