Why I Do It

Why I Do It

By Mark Leitheiser

Experts tell us we are facing a major teacher shortage in the United States. It’s not hard to see why. Teaching these days is tough. Unhappy parents, shifting technology, demanding administrators and unruly students can cause even the most seasoned instructor to wilt facing these and many other challenges.

Teachers are not alone, of course. Sadly, words like “anger” “frustration” and “burnout” are pervasive in America’s workforce. Apparently, all jobs these days are tough, which begs the question, “Why do we do it?”

When asked that very question, teachers typically respond to the time when they see, “the light go on” for a student who suddenly understands a new concept. I can certainly appreciate this response, and for many years I would have answered the same way. Over time, however, a lightbulb moment, while certainly rewarding, began to grow dimmer in my eyes. I needed something more and just last month, in a small resort town, I got my answer to why I still do it.

It all started when Sweetums announced she wanted to do a little shopping - alone. Apparently my peering over her shoulder whining about being poor detracts from her shopping experience. Looking across the street, I spotted an empty bench in front of a store full of things I couldn’t afford and knew where I would plant myself. Then I shifted my brain into neutral and snoozed while Sweetums shopped in peace.

It didn’t seem long before I saw her crossing the street with an armload of bargains. Now, I confess, I wasn’t thinking much about my career that morning but as I stood to greet Sweetums, the door to the store swung open and the answer to why I still do it nearly knocked me flat on my back.

It wasn’t the near collision with the door that gave me my answer; it was a single proper noun: “LEITHEISER?” This wasn’t so much a question as astonished recognition from the young man who had opened the door.

It took only a moment to realize that my answer, wearing a hoodie and loafers, and holding a little girl’s hand, was a former outstanding student and track athlete from my days at GFW High School.

After an awkward moment of recognition, I began my routine of 20 questions about his life. Not surprisingly, he was living a rewarding life, filled with work, family and service. The little girl, of course, was his beautiful daughter, on her way to not one, but two birthday parties that day. Her father graciously introduced me as his teacher and coach and I did my best to look impressive, but she looked about as excited as if she had just met a toilet seat.

After a few minutes of small talk, we both understood it was time to move on. He had a daughter with birthday parties to attend and I was getting hungry. I had said nothing of particular importance in our exchange that morning but something of great importance had spoken to me. Seeing this young man and his daughter reminded me of why I still teach.

Sure, I still teach literature, composition, grammar and spelling, but far more important, I still teach young men and young women whose moral development outweighs my best academic lessons. Seeing the light in a student’s eyes is still a thrill, but seeing a former student go on to live a successful life is a light far brighter. It’s a light that reminds me why I still teach; it reminds me why I still do it.

This wasn’t my first encounter with a former student - far from it. Four decades of teaching have left a trail of students scattered like corn husks on a windy day. Thankfully, most of these reunions are positive as was the case a few months ago at the New Ulm Medical Clinic.

Before starting my always pleasant annual physical, I had the chance to visit with a former student from Fairfax. Today, he is a successful doctor but during our chat, he recited, verbatim, lessons I’d taught decades ago. Another former student, also working at the clinic, took great care of me after falling from my roof last year. Thanks for the reminders, doctors.

It isn’t often I smile when emerging from a clinic. To be honest, I feel like I should give the doctor a gift certificate or a candy bar for having to examine me. Yet this time, my heart was full as this young man and this young lady served as two more reminders of why I still do it.

Some reminders can be a bit scary. A number of years ago, a former student, who just happened to hate my guts as his teacher, flagged me down in the Mankato Mall. “Oh God,” I whispered, “not here, not now.” Yet, as he approached, I could see something had changed. That day I learned he had become a Christian man who was a husband and the father of a wonderful young family. He just wanted to say hi. Why do I still do it? Sometimes the answer can be found in a shopping mall.

These encounters aren’t always pleasant, of course. Summer celebrations, for example, compel some former students, most of them drunk, to track down teachers - like me. These charmers thrive on using my first name repeatedly while blowing smoke rings in my face and telling me they cheated on every test and slept in my class. Thankfully, things nearly always end on a cordial note as they say they kind of liked my class even though they didn’t learn a damn thing. Some reminders are more uplifting than others.

So, why do we do it? I hope, regardless of your vocation, you are able to find your answer to that question. I found mine this fall and when it came to me, it nearly knocked me flat on my back!