Hard Being a Teacher

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
It's harder being a teacher. The job abuses its workers.
Few any more pursue careers teaching other people's children, who
often come to class traumatized at home, unkept, often hungry.
But there is a voice deep within every teacher. It
calls them to this. In the beginning, the teacher answers

(00:20):
that call. But today it's harder and harder to keep listening.
Remote learning erased so much of their hard work. Fractured
families produce troubled kids. Endemic poverty makes home life, even
in this the richest country on earth, so unstable for
school aged children. To a child unsure of what home
will be tonight or tomorrow, the teacher's warm and welcoming

(00:43):
smile first thing each school day makes him feel safe, loved,
and secure. Now, the story I'm about to retell comes
from a popular blog written by a thirty year elementary
school teacher who has collected moments like these from his colleagues.
They like he heard that voice at this moment in

(01:03):
the school year. Thanksgiving Day was near like most first
grade teachers, which explains their enduring popularity. She gave her
class of six year olds a fun assignment draw a
picture of something for which you are thankful. To outsiders,
it might be obvious the kids in this class may
be considered economically disadvantage. Still, most all will celebrate the

(01:26):
holiday at home with their families, turkey and other traditional
goodies of the season. These blessings, the teacher thought would
be the subjects of her student's art, and they were.
But one of hers, a timid little boy named Douglas,
drew something unusual. Douglas was a little different. He was
this teacher's true child of misery and frailty. He always

(01:49):
seemed unhappy, didn't have many friends. Clearly he didn't feel
secure at home. His parents, such that they were, probably
didn't remind him how much he's loved. Maybe too often,
Douglas went to bed hungry or cold or afraid. A child,
unlike an adult, isn't equipped to worry. Douglas's worries showed

(02:09):
in her class every day. But as the other children
played at recess, Douglas was likely to stand close by
his teacher's side. He'd look up to her in those
sad eyes, and then she'd feel the pain and was
left only to guess why he was so cheer less
on this Thanksgiving Day. The day before Thanksgiving, each of
the boys and girls finished their artwork, and she began

(02:30):
displaying them one at a time on the wall behind
their seats. Yes, Douglas's picture was different. When asked to
draw a picture of something for which he was thankful,
he drew a simple hand. Nothing else, just an empty hand. Now,
this abstract image captured the imagination of his peers. Whose

(02:51):
hand could it be? One guest, who was the hand
of a farmer, because farmers raised turkeys. Another classmate suggested
a police officer, because a policeman must have strong hands
so as to protect and care for people. Still others
guessed maybe it was the hand of God, for God
feeds us upon days. And each of the other children

(03:12):
quickly pulled on their hats and coats and stuffed their backpacks,
giddy about the day to come. The teacher paused at
Douglas's desk, bent down, and gently asked him whose hand
it was. In etching that simple diagram of four fingers
and a thumb above a strong wrist on a white
sheet of paper, he was saying thank you for the

(03:33):
time this person had taken his hand and walked with
him here or there thanked them for how often this
person had extended a hand and said, come along, Douglas,
we'll both go outside and play. Or let me show
you how to hold your pencil. She asked again, in
whose hand is this? The little boy looked up into

(03:55):
her eyes and said, it's yours. At that moment she
heard so much more than his soft voice. She heard
that voice inside of her, and it was louder than ever.
May the loving blessings of this thanksgiving come to the
table of every teacher who ever held your hand.