This week I did some classroom observations and debriefs known as “teacher learning walks” at one of our schools.  It’s a fantastic practice, similar to instructional rounds or lesson study, where teachers spend time observing their colleagues and then discussing what and how students were learning.  It’s the type of professional development I want for every teacher.

As we were discussing together, one of the teachers referred to the administrators and other guests in the group as “non-teachers.”   It was said very matter of factly.  No intention to offend or upset.  She was just trying to explain a point to those not working in the classroom. 

I like to believe I have the heart of a teacher, and that I have a strong teaching skill set.  Indeed, I find the art and science of teaching as a professional practice to be infinitely complex and fascinating.  I hope anyone who has watched me facilitate learning knows that it genuinely brings me joy.  

But when you choose to leave the classroom, a real choice is being made.  The title of a teacher is one I revere and admire tremendously.  Most of that reverence stems from an understanding of the work and dedication required over years to develop a rigorous, student-centered, and high quality instructional practice.  And I happen to agree to a large degree that you can’t qualify for the title when you aren’t doing that work.  There is a certain labor associated with it.  There is a camaraderie in the struggle that brings shared appreciation and shared empathy. 

Admittedly, I’ve never regretted the decision to leave the classroom to become an administrator.  I don’t get offended when people point out or emphasize my “non-teacher” status.  Some administrators fight it, holding on to their identity as a classroom teacher.  That’s actually a good thing, I think, to value and call upon your teacher perspective and awareness.  But in many teachers’ minds, if you aren’t currently in the classroom, you aren’t a teacher, and I don’t begrudge them that opinion.  

I have other practices and aspects of the work that I love – perhaps even equally to the practice of teaching.  I deeply enjoy the challenges of organizational management, of helping adults find their purpose and drive, of shaping educational institutions into more student-centered spaces.  I enjoy solving problems and challenges, designing learning spaces and experiences, and having a place at the table where decisions are made that impact teachers and classrooms across an entire system.  These are responsibilities I find compelling and necessary.  

I have conceded and rarely introduce myself as a teacher.  I’ve come to favor the title “educator.”  But I have to admit that being referred to as a “non-teacher” still comes with  a sting.