Miracle Workersby Taylor Mali (www.taylormali.com)
Sunday nights I lie awake—as all teachers do—and wait for sleep to comelike the last student in my class to arrive.My grading is done, my lesson plans are in order,and still sleep wanders the hallways like Lower School music.I’m a teacher. This is what I do.
Like a painter paints, or a sculptor sculpts,a preacher preaches, and a teacher teaches.This is what we do.Experts in the art of explanation:I know the difference between questionsto answer and questions to ask.
What do you think?
If two boys are fighting, I break it up.But if two girls are fighting, I wait until it’s over and then drag what’s left to the nurse’s office.I’m not your mother, or your father,or your jailer, or your torturer,or your biggest fan in the whole wide world even if sometimes I am all of these things.I know you can do these things I make you do.That’s why I make you do them.I’m a teacher.
This is what I do.
A homeless man asked me for change on the street one night when my pockets were empty.“Come on man, it’s Christmas,” he pleaded,and I knew I had become a teacher for better or worse when I spun on my heelsand barked: What did I just say?
Don’t make me repeat myself!
In the quiet hours of the dawnI write assignment sheets and print themwithout spell checking them. Because I’m a teacher,and teachers don’t make spelling mistakes.So yes, as a matter of fact, the new dress codwill apply to all members of the 5th, 6th, and 78th grades;and if you need an extension on your 55-paragraph essaysexamining The Pubic Wars from an hysterical perspectiveyou may have only until January 331st.I trust that won’t be a problem for anyone?
In the quiet hours of the dawnI write assignment sheets and print themwithout spell checking them. Because I’m a teacher,and teachers don’t make spelling mistakes.So yes, as a matter of fact, the new dress codwill apply to all members of the 5th, 6th, and 78th grades;and if you need an extension on your 55-paragraph essaysexamining The Pubic Wars from an hysterical perspectiveyou may have only until January 331st.I trust that won’t be a problem for anyone?
I like to lecture on love and speak on responsibility.I hold forth on humility, compassion, eloquence, and honesty.And when my students ask, “Are we going to be responsible for this?”I say, If not you, then who?You think my generation will be responsible?We’re the ones who got you into this mess, now you are our only hope.And when they say, “What we meant was,
‘Will we be tested on this?’”
I say Every single day of your lives!
Once, I put a pencil on the desk of a student who was digging in her backpack for a pencil.But she didn’t see me do it, so when I walkedto the other side of the room and she raised her hand and asked if she could borrow a pencil,I intoned, In the name of Socrates and Jesus, and all the gods of teaching,I declare you already possess everything you will ever need!Shazzam!“You are the weirdest teacher I have ever—”Then she saw the pencil on her desk and screamed.“You’re a miracle worker!
How did you do that?”
I just gave you what I knew you neededbefore you had to ask for it.
I just gave you what I knew you neededbefore you had to ask for it.
Education is the miracle,
I’m just the worker.
But I’m a teacher.
And that’s what we do.
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