I’m not an education major; however, I will fight for as long as it takes for people to give teachers the respect they deserve.

I’ve never understood why people give education majors and teachers such a bad rap. They teach the youth of today, the leaders of tomorrow—they shape the world that is yet to unfold. The lessons they relay to their students are important, despite the students’ complaints stating otherwise. I completely understand when teachers tell kids not to become teachers because of monetary issues. The benefits that public educators receive have exponentially decreased over the years, and they’re about to get worse.

I am very passionate about this issue because while growing up, my teachers were not only educators—they were my role models. Most notably my humanities teachers (art, music, forensics, English, history, etc.) were there to teach me not only how to write a paper or draw a picture or sing a song, they were there to teach me how to respect others and express empathy. Maybe it’s because of this education that I feel so strongly about the respect that teachers deserve.

I remember watching a slam poetry performance of a teacher talking about how people made fun of him when he told them he was a teacher. I don’t feel that this is something to make fun of or feel sorry for as so many do. It’s something that deserves respect because it takes guts to get up each day and teach in front of multiple classes, over a hundred kids by the end of the day. It takes guts to face the ignorance that families have forced upon their children. It takes guts to challenge that ignorance and risk the backlash of the family. It takes guts to reach out to the quiet kid in the corner who has depression and shows signs of suicide. It takes guts to listen to their story and even more to do something about it. But it’s their duty. They protect children. They help kids grow and blossom into beautiful young adults.

My elementary school teachers helped me through the struggle of my adolescence, a very difficult and trying time because of my parents’ divorce. My second grade teacher pulled me aside one morning and had a half hour long chat with me, telling me that she was there for me and that she knew how it hurt. At the time I felt uncomfortable and awkward, but looking back, I am so grateful for what she did. I needed to know that other people other than my family were there for me, understood me.

In middle school, my teachers created deep familial ties between my classmates and me. I cried for the first time at school while in choir, and in any other class I would have been mortified. But the boy standing next to me saw and reached out to hold my hand. If we hadn’t had family time in choir (this continued through my senior year of high school and they still do it today), I wouldn’t have been comfortable with that and the boy wouldn’t have reached out to me.

In high school, my teachers became like second parents (mainly second moms). My yearbook advisor, my choir teacher, and my forensics coach all taught me to stand up for what I believe in. My math teacher taught me to appreciate the sciences after so many years of hating it. My history teacher taught me to imagine walking a mile in someone else’s shoes before I make a definite opinion. My English teachers taught me the importance of literature and to interpret both stories and the real world through different perspectives.

My teachers have given me so much of their time and they have all gone above and beyond what they are required to. And I’m not the only one they do this for. They are there for all of their students. I cannot show how much I appreciate all that they do, but I hope this shines some light on how much respect they deserve. Next time you’re at a social event and you meet a teacher or education major, don’t feel sorry for them. Feel a sense of awe. Congratulate and thank them for what they do. I know I always do.