The Curse of the English Teacher

When people inquire about my profession, I merely state, “I teach high school English.”  This usually elicits guffaws, eye-rolls, and comments like, “God bless you—I could NEVER do that!”  Sometimes I wonder if I actually told people what I do, would I still receive the same reactions.

One of the most difficult aspects of being an educator of teenagers is not being able to help students.  Academic achievement remains high on the priority list, but I’m talking about stuff that goes beyond tests and grades. 

Teaching English, I assign writing topics.  My most recent topic had to do with students reflecting on their hamartia, or greatest flaw that leads to their down-fall.  Many of my students wrote about procrastination or pride, keeping life on the surface level.  But others wrote about pain much deeper than suffering a poor grade because of deferment.  And these students are the ones my heart breaks for.  Paragraphs overflowing with thoughts of inferiority, self-loathing, and insecurities.  Silent voices screaming of wrongs committed by others and themselves.  Cries of helplessness that are terrified to be discovered. 

And in many ways, I am helpless to help.

I have to teach them to analyze literature.

I have to teach them to write essays.

I have to teach them to pass tests.

What I hate most about encountering these inaudible pleas is that I’m legally obligated to report the voices behind them.  And I fear that these reports will irreparably damage the trust my students bestow on me and they will have no one to voice their struggles to.

At the same time, my legal obligation might be the only action that saves a student’s life.

If only people knew what “teaching high school English” really entailed…