I don’t want to hear it. There’s a string of stories about ‘teachers feeling overwhelmed due to COVID’ that are trickling out—and no one should really care. First, I guess medical staff just enjoyed sitting around doing nothing over the past two years, right?
I’m sure every nurse and doctor who has dealt with COVID on the frontlines from the get-go is raising an eyebrow over these whiny teachers. Hospitals weren’t shut down for obvious reasons. Schools closed for months. Teachers worked from home—and failed. That is not the fault of teachers. Remote learning was never going to be able to adequately educate our kids. That was a system failure. Yet, after the vaccines rolled out and teachers were pushed to the front of the line, they still refused to go back to work.
Teachers’ unions do have a remarkable quality: they have a penchant for squandering their support and public goodwill. Everyone was going back to work—but these clowns wanted a permanent vacation. Unsurprisingly, there’s an education gap that we will never close, but thank God we have National Public Radio to tell us and especially parents, who saw this iceberg coming, what we’ve known for months. Our kids aren’t alright. School closures caused a spike in mental health issues. And they’re way behind on where they should be concerning their educational journey (via NPR):
School is out, but teacher stress and burnout is still in session.
Last December, we spoke to teachers about the challenges of educating during a pandemic and their hopes for the coming year.
While many of them had initially thought a return to the classroom after remote learning would make things easier, others realized a new set of challenges had arisen.
"The teachers are just feeling overwhelmed, and they're breaking down underneath it," Michael Reinholdt, a teacher coach from Davenport, Iowa, said at the time. "I find people crying in the bathroom."
We caught up with Reinholdt; Suzen Polk-Hoffses, a pre-K teacher in Milbridge, Maine; and Tiki Boyea-Logan, a 4th grade teacher in Rowlett, Texas, to hear their thoughts.
Boyea-Logan teaches fourth grade, and has witnessed firsthand how disruptive the pandemic has been to the development of her students.
"I feel like at the beginning of the school year, I basically got second graders, because that's the point where they were in school full time," she said.
"Though you're a fourth grade teacher, you're teaching kids who are emotionally at the second grade level. And academically, we're back to working miracles, like, 'Hey, we need to get these kids caught up, we need to fill these gaps.'"
This is one thing Reinholdt, Polk-Hoffses and Boyea-Logan are all warning of: A possible exodus of teachers in the summer.
"My fear is that during the summer, they'll just say, 'I just can't do this anymore, because it was just too hard,'" Polk-Hoffses said.
Yes, work is hard. What the hell is this mickey mouse crap? You people dug this hole. You broke it. You buy it. And you better damn well fix it. You were put in front of the line to get the vaccine, and now you want to quit because…it’s too hard. Ask the nurses in the intensive care unit on any given day, even pe-COVID, and I’m sure they’ll just laugh in your face. Better yet, NPR threaded the Uvalde shooting in there to increase the sense of stress. I don’t care. Shut up. Quit peddling leftist propaganda, stop doling out puberty blockers, end the weird operation of making all the kids trans, and get to work. This is your problem. You wanted to stay home for as long as possible...and here we are.
“It was just too hard.” Really? Well, welcome to life, teach. Life is hard. Teaching is hard. Get over it. And no one feels bad for you people, so I wouldn’t count on these little stories drumming up any sympathy. People can’t find baby formula to feed their babies. Gas prices are killing working-class Americans. Inflation is torching everyone’s wallet. We don’t have time for these third-tier grievances.