An Open Letter to First-Year Teachers

Dear First-Year Teachers,

I don’t know if you realize this or not, but you have embarked on a wonderful, terrifying, incredible journey. You’ve raised your sails, and you’ve left the safety of the harbour—there’s no turning back now. The sea might be smooth as glass or it might hold murderous-looking waves, but either way, you’re the one who needs to guide this ship through.

But seriously, all sailing metaphors aside, things might feel tough for a while. That’s okay. That’s normal.

Like any new job, there is so much to learn until you start to feel like you know what you’re doing. And teaching is the kind of job that you can do for thirty years and still come up against situations that you aren’t quite sure how to handle. That’s the kind of job you’ve signed up for, in case you didn’t know. There aren’t always easy answers. Solutions might feel hard to come by. It will stretch you in ways you didn’t even know were possible.

Is that terrifying?

I don’t want to scare you, but I’m also not going to lie to you. Teaching is hard. But teaching is also wonderful. Have you seen it yet? Have you looked into the eyes of a student who is learning something new that tickles their interest or fuels their passion or, sometimes, lights a brand-new fire in their soul? Have you laughed together and played together and felt the wonderful belonging that a classroom can give? Have you noticed how beautifully unique each of your students is, every one displaying a different aspect of the Creator’s creativity? Have you felt your heart swell with love or pride or delight when you look at those precious souls?

Yes, teaching is a wonderful gift, and you are privileged enough to get to experience it.

Now for some practical advice.

Save everything you make. If you’re creating a worksheet or activity or lesson plan or visual aid—keep it for next year. You’ll be so amazed at how much easier the second year is if you can rely on having some of the work done for you already. It took me a ridiculously long time to learn this lesson in my early years of teaching, and I had so many moments of frustration due to files I had to remake because I hit the delete button instead of the save button.

Practical piece of advice number two: Don’t fall into the trap of trying to make your students like you. Now, don’t get me wrong, you should be likeable. You should be kind and caring and free to laugh and have fun. But that is very different than operating out of a place of fear and a need for approval.

If your main goal is to make your students like you, you’ll find yourself letting misbehaviours slide and looking the other way when you should be engaging. You’ll find yourself bending to their whims and desires, even though they don’t always know what’s best for themselves. You’ll find yourself doing whatever you can to make them happy, even when they want the wrong things. And the ironic thing is that if you do that, they won’t be truly happy, and you definitely won’t be.

Instead, focus on making learning robust, yet enjoyable. Have a clear standard of behaviour and actually call them to it (more on that in a bit). Care about them, and show that you care however you can. Ask them questions about their lives and genuinely listen to the answers. These are the things that will make your students enjoy you and help you to enjoy them.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t give any advice about classroom management. Take it from someone who learned many lessons about this the hard way—you need to be clear about your expectations, you need to be consistent in reinforcing them, and you need to actually follow through with consequences when necessary.

The first step in being clear with your expectations is you actually knowing what they are. It seems obvious, but it’s surprisingly easy to get yourself into situations where you realize you don’t even know what behaviour to enforce. Think through the areas in which you want your students to rise to a certain standard of behaviour. Ideally, write this standard of behaviour down. Then, communicate those expectations to your students. There should be no question in their minds what you are requiring from them.

Once you know you’ve clearly laid out your expectations of behaviour, you can also know that any student straying from that behaviour is choosing to do so. Now, of course, there’s always a grace period in which to assume they have just forgotten. But a day will come (and you’ll usually know, deep down, when it does) when forgetting is no longer a legitimate excuse and it’s time for there to be consequences for breaking the rules.

And when that happens, follow through. It’s not fun or easy, but if you don’t follow through with consequences for misbehaviour, you’re digging yourself a terrible hole. As much as possible, frame consequences in terms of their choices. You want to avoid a you-versus-them mentality from developing, and one of the best ways to do that is to make it clear to them that they are being punished because of their own choices, not because you’re a capricious monster.

For example, if a student breaks a rule and the ensuing consequence is needing to miss several minutes of the soccer game, you might say something like the following: “I’m really sorry that you chose to do x. I really wish that you could be playing soccer with the others, but since you did x, you can’t. I really hope I see you choosing better next time.”

It never feels good to need to punish a student, but remember that learning actions have consequences is a necessary life lesson.

Speaking of life lessons, there will be times when you get opportunities to teach them things that aren’t in any textbook or lesson plan. Take advantage of those moments. If there’s a gorgeous rainbow happening outside, it’s good and right to enjoy that moment together. It’s okay if the math page doesn’t quite get finished that day because of it. Sometimes you’ll have the chance to teach them about how to show empathy even when you don’t understand someone else or how their actions affect others or how to care for someone who’s hurting. Seize those moments—you’re not just teaching heads. Your students have hearts, too.

There are so many more things I could say to you. But instead, I’ll leave you with a wish. My wish for you is that you will experience the unparalleled joy of this job, that the good days will outweigh the bad ones, and that you will learn to depend on our Father in new ways through this school year.

He is with you. He will help you. If you lack wisdom, ask of God—He gives generously.

Peace be with you,

A Former Teacher