I have a revelation to make: I'm no Superman.
I'm not faster than a speeding bullet; I cannot outpower a locomotive; and I am unable to leap tall buildings in a single bound. I cannot use X-ray vision, am not invulnerable, and I lack super-hearing and freezing breath. I am neither a bird, nor a plane. I'm a teacher.
But I am prone to the negativity of kryptonite. You can read it in the newspapers, see it on television or watch it on the big screen.
Every time this small group of vociferous people - from former Washington, D.C. Education Chancellor Michelle Rhee to the local blogosphere - publishes their next anti-teacher diatribe, I, like Superman, feel pained, nauseated and immobilized to perform my job.
And I have found this kryptonite is not just hurting me, but the future of America.
First, let's come to terms - we are on the cusp of an educational revolution. Fifteenth place in reading and 20th place in mathematics is by no means a comfortable place in our world. Something needs to be done, so most of the public turns its attention to teachers.
Studies have shown - from dissertations to Davis Guggenheim's recent film "Waiting for Superman" - the most effective way to better educate a child is to have great teachers.
More than new gadgets, laptops on every desk, class sizes, socio-economic status and curriculum, the best education begins with a huge heart in the center of the classroom.
But being the pulse for 25-160 students is a difficult and trying task.
Each of the students on my roster becomes a variable that pulls at the strings of my heart. I have had students with cognitive and reasoning disabilities, and others who spoke limited English. I also welcomed a few who are dyslexic, while others have autism, ADHD, ADD and had reading and math disabilities. But these are only the documented issues.
Off the record, students come from broken homes; others are bullied in school, while others see no importance in education. Some live alone; others have parents who place a greater priority in their drug use than in raising their children. Other students dabble in those vices themselves; while many more sleep so little on the average school night that they're just as incapacitated.
I see my students only 42 minutes a day for 180 days, but some of my students will spend more time playing the X-Box video game "Call of Duty: Black Ops" during their holiday break than they will in my classes for the year. Why?
Because students feel like they're in school held against their will.
We are teaching students for jobs that we don't even know exist, and yet we're doing it in an old-fashioned, factory-output method. In our nation's early educational history, students enjoyed education because it was a privilege to be educated.
Today, it is an obligation that some students equate with a prison sentence. And from this abyss some Superman is supposed to save the day.
That obligation can be much more valuable if it were a more community-supported one. Here are things you can do to build a community-supported school:
Go to school board meetings. You would be surprised how small the turnout is at a place where the American citizen can have the most impact.
Volunteer at your school. Every school can use an extra set of eyes, ears and hearts.
From tutoring to reading to students, PTOs, to walking the halls or being involved in extracurriculars, there's a place for you if you have the time, and not just in elementary school.
Become a mentor for a student. Some school districts have mentor programs, other nonprofits (such as Big Brothers Big Sisters of the Capital Area) fill that void. There are so many students who could use someone to look up to.
Share a word of thanks to someone who changed your life - and then model their guidance.
Empower students, don't coddle them. It feels like many of us - from parents to teachers to others - are more comfortable allowing students to be spectators in their own lives rather than motivated and aspiring stars.
Work with school district curriculum managers to build skills you hope to see at the university and workplace levels, instead of rote memorization.
Support great teachers, because sometimes they lose a little faith in their abilities, even if they're not akin to Superman's.
Just because we're expected to be made of steel doesn't mean we are.
While we teachers cannot outpower locomotives or leap from buildings, we can teach children.
We just need your help, not your kryptonite.
Jake Miller is a teacher at Cumberland Valley High School.
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