Clarity of Vision Is Never Out of Style

In the next few years a lot of teachers are going to retire, and there’s something very special about this particular group of veterans.

These are the folks who graduated from college in the 1960s or early 1970s, who remember the idealism of John F. Kennedy, the speeches of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and the horrors of the Vietnam War. They felt teaching was indeed something they could “do for their country.”

Each time my district offers some sort of retirement incentive, I worry. Yes, there are some teachers they can’t get rid of soon enough and who appear to have retired already. But what’s awe-inspiring are those who haven’t lost a beat and have as much passion for the job as they did 30 years ago.

A golden handshake for one of these teachers is a risky trade-off, even if a district can hire two new teachers for the same salary. The money saved cannot possibly buy what it is these torchbearers bring to a school.

This group of teachers always seems to focus on what’s important. Whether it’s a geometry instructor or a fifth-grade teacher, they never lose sight of the big picture. They have seen trends come and go. They have set goals and objectives, filled out surveys and created mission statements. They have sat through workshops and listened to inspirational speakers. They have attended forums, served on committees and administered a wide range of required tests. And through all of this, they have managed to retain their integrity, their standards and their sense of humor.

These idealistic realists carefully take what makes sense and diplomatically ignore the rest. They know when to go along with a harmless bit of inanity and when to take a stand.

These seasoned educators are a constant reminder of what schools are really for: the transmission of knowledge and skills. They believe that what a student learns in school can determine what kind of life he or she is going to have, and there’s not a minute to waste.

They know that a literate plumber is as important as a literate doctor. That knowing about the world you live in matters as much as knowing about the body you inhabit. That awareness of poetry, music and art adds a sense of excitement to one’s existence. That life is simply easier if you can spell and add and read and type.

But even more important, these teachers have always known that they are not in the business of simply creating smart students but students who will themselves create a better world. There is always a moral context to what they’re teaching, from the obvious lessons of the Holocaust or “The Grapes of Wrath” to more subtle questions concerning the ultimate uses of physics and biology.

Despite their age, they don’t seem to know the meaning of the term “burnout.” They meet with kids after school and at lunch; they sponsor clubs, coach teams and plan in-service days. The extra stipend they may or may not receive never reflects the time they put in.

They also know that the business of educating is hard work. It means after-school meetings and late-night rehearsals. It means planning on weekends and grading far too many papers. But as long as it’s about kids, they don’t complain.

Because they work so hard, these teachers take a dim view of those who don’t. It’s not that they expect everyone to make the sacrifices they do, but they expect their peers to take the job seriously. They support the concept of a union, but there’s no knee-jerk rallying around an incompetent colleague.

School principals all know who their top veterans are, and they also know what a pain they can be. They didn’t become the teachers they are by being passive, quiet or constantly charming. They admire expertise but are not impressed by authority or titles. They don’t take things sitting down and never tire of fighting for what they believe in. They are routinely described as feisty, uncompromising and difficult. They’ve seen administrators come and go, and they don’t switch directions depending on the wind.

But no principal worth his salt would trade one of these gems for a cheerful, passive “yes” person. These teachers are the moral center of the school. They know what’s real and what’s phony. They’ll tell you the truth, even if it hurts. And they’ll demonstrate a loyalty the likes of which you’ve never seen--if you earn it.

It’s hard not to smile recalling these legendary teachers. The social science teacher, now in his 50s, who is considering taking on the rigors and frustrations of National Board certification; the slightly graying calculus teacher who still does free prep sessions for the AP test on Saturdays; the middle-school teacher, already retirement age but still designing a new elective; the teacher of European history who, after 29 years, still gets excited about the French Revolution; and the English teacher who still chokes up over Horatio’s final words to dying Hamlet. Despite what one would think, years of teaching have not made them tired or cynical.

The good news is that these teachers look forward to passing the torch to a new generation. They came to teaching during a unique time in our country’s history, and their wisdom and idealism are well worth emulating. There is much to learn from them, and young teachers need to exploit them shamelessly before their final bell rings. For these teachers embody a spirit and an integrity that we cannot afford to lose when they leave our classrooms.

These wise and wonderful vets have always been able to cut through the politics and rhetoric by putting every proposal through the same rigorous scrutiny: Is it good for kids? Such clarity of vision has never gone out of style.

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Christine Baron is a high school English teacher in Orange County. You can reach her at https://oceducate@latimes.com or (714) 966-4550.