By: Kathryn Sabath

There is no controversy in saying that schools should prioritize student learning. Schools should do their best to help students grow as people, master information, become curious, self-sufficient, capable, and independent. We may not fully agree on the content of all that learning, but we certainly agree that the purpose of schools is to educate our children. It’s curious then, that many people would say our schools have become no more than glorified babysitting operations. Many are unhappy, disgruntled at the state of our schools. And as someone on the inside, I can understand why. 

My experiences in two very different schools highlight this conflict. I taught for my first 3 years in a really unique suburban district (that deserves its own entire post). Here, my 24 students spoke 14 languages, we had great diversity in culture, some diversity in race, and slight diversity in socio-economic status. The PTA made sure teachers had the materials we wanted, funds for field trips, and a twice yearly “class gift.” After this, I taught 5th grade in a school where almost all students qualified as low-income and students were pulled from across the district who were below grade level in math or reading. Even without a PTA or all of the necessary supplies, the love and care shared between teachers and students at this school was very real. But as the barriers to teaching and learning were larger here, so was the teacher burnout and demoralization. Still, a similar kind of dissatisfaction bubbled to the surface in my first school, too.

In both school districts, the priority was always supposed to be student learning. So why did I find myself, in both districts, in conversations with teachers saying: “If only we had this, I could actually help students learn.”?


When my first district’s PTA generously put in a “makerspace” in our library - complete with 3D printing technology and other gadgets - we were under pressure to begin using it immediately. At surface level, this was an excellent suggestion. But as a professional utilizing this space, I felt the weight of how much was not being taken into consideration. For example, we were given no notice, I had already carefully planned integrated projects with my team that didn’t include any of the makerspace gadgets, my district only allotted 2 hours per week for science AND social studies, and some teachers had to work test prep into that time since science was now on their state exam. This gift for the students couldn’t be used for student learning because teachers were left out of the conversation. 

In my second district, we were told we had to have our students enter the science fair, and that it would be funded by Title I. What a wonderful experience - I was floored! Except...we were told we also HAD to do the 6-week rockets unit, we had 3 field trips in the fall along with a few special guest visitors, and let’s not forget the 15 days of standardized testing in December leading up to the science fair submission date. Not to mention, we were only allotted 5 hours per week for science and social studies. When we described all these time crunches, we were told “just have them make another rocket.” Oh, so you don’t care if they actually get the experience of choosing and designing an awesome STEM project for a science fair...you just want to check it off your list. That was now clear, but the expectation on us to make it happen remained. So we set up for it, I got my kids psyched, and they each made a plan and a list of materials. A few weeks into waiting for supplies, we were told it actually wouldn’t be funded by Title I. The money was being used elsewhere, so we’d have to buy our own supplies. I had just gotten my kids excited about these “sky’s the limit” projects (which in and of itself, was a daunting task for 17 kids who felt they couldn’t ever be good at science). Now I was left without promised resources, even less time, and knowing I would have to disappoint my students.

In both situations, students were the ones being let down; both their joy and their learning suffered, despite every effort from their teachers. And the two examples I shared are not few and far between. Teachers find ourselves in situations like these almost daily. The pressures and time crunches and lack of materials (which can also look like the requirement to use unhelpful/unplanned for materials) come in many forms, and they all impede our ability to teach in the ways we know are best. They double the work again and again, making us spend valuable time doing things we know are utterly useless at best, and harmful to students at worst. 

 So my perspective is this: when teachers have the time, space, and support to do their jobs well, the students will reap the benefits. This means teachers have time to plan that doesn’t seep in tidal waves into their home lives. It means there are supplies accessible when they are needed, there is sincere administrative support for higher level discipline concerns as well as parent/family concerns, there is clarity and realistic expectations put on the content that is to be covered within the class duration, and paperwork derived from bureaucratic policies is eliminated. There should be nothing put on teachers’ plates that is purely administrative or that we don’t find useful to our teaching or to our students’ learning. Period. When we trust our teachers and respect their expertise, we will get better results for our students - including retaining great teachers who will be there year after year as loving mentors to watch former students grow up. So how can we actually achieve this? Step 1: Ask teachers what they need.

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Taking Student-Centered Action