Teachers are not Parents: Redefining Classroom Roles
When I was a younger man, in my early 20s, I was working to become a licensed classroom teacher - preferably in the primary grades. During that time when I was asked by teachers, potential jobs and peers why I wanted to become a teacher, I always answered because I wanted children to have a haven from the difficult environments in which they lived and from the lives they lived. They could come to my classroom and feel safe and secure to explore, ask questions and just exist.
Years later, I subtitled my doctoral dissertation, the classroom as a haven. What I learned from the research I did for the dissertation, is that children may see the classroom as a haven and feel safe, but they don't forget the lives and experiences (some traumatic) that they live each and every day outside of the classroom. In fact, just the opposite. Children bring those burdens in with them and sometimes need the safety and security of the classroom environment to express those feelings of unsafe and insecurity. The conclusion to my dissertation in response to my findings was that teachers are NOT academically, nor personally, prepared to deal effectively with the trauma that sometimes is exposed by classroom procedures, cultures, and/or practices.
But the expectation that teachers ARE exposed to the effects of exposure to trauma and are SUPPOSED to be able to deal with it and still teach children from a myriad of backgrounds to read at proficient levels, sometimes in languages they are still learning and sometimes with little support from home. So we become caretakers. And this is where we currently stand in elementary education: be a professional and teach children skills, but do it in spite of the challenges that children bring with them as a result of trauma such as domestic violence, environmental violence, poverty, and "-isms".
So it is no surprise that, as I was driving behind a Subaru the other day, I saw a license plate frame that said, "I am a mother of 30. I am a teacher." It threw me for a second and, in all honesty I was driving so maybe I was feeling prickly, but it also offended me as a father and parent of two school-age boys. The frame definitely threw me in a dilemma - I am a teacher who believes even my college students ought to feel safe and I would do what I can to help them - but I don't grieve for them if they lose a friend, or pay their insurance, or feel- deep in the marrow - their disappointments and joys as I do with my own boys. That is what prompted this submission and the upcoming podcast episode - yes, I am going to start it again with a flurry of three episodes. Teachers aren't parents to their students and for the following reasons, shouldn't be seen as parents and shouldn't feel like parents to their students.
In recent years, a subtle yet significant shift has occurred in the perception of a teacher's role. Increasingly, educators are being expected to fill gaps traditionally left by parents, leading to a blurring of lines that ultimately harms both students and the teaching profession. It's time to unequivocally state: teachers are not, and should not be, surrogate moms and dads for their students.
The primary role of a teacher is to educate. They are experts in curriculum delivery, pedagogical strategies, and fostering intellectual growth. Their classrooms are spaces for learning, critical thinking, and skill development. This is a monumental task in itself, requiring immense dedication, skill, and resources. When teachers are burdened with responsibilities that extend far beyond academic instruction—such as extensive emotional counseling, providing basic necessities, or enforcing discipline that should originate in the home—their core mission is diluted.
This isn't to say teachers don't care deeply about their students' well-being. A good teacher naturally fosters a supportive and nurturing environment, and they often serve as crucial mentors and trusted adults. They are frequently the first to notice when a student is struggling, whether academically, emotionally, or physically. In such cases, their role is to identify these issues and, crucially, to connect students and families with appropriate support systems and resources, not to become those support systems themselves.
The expectation that teachers act as parents places an unfair and unsustainable burden on them. It contributes to burnout, detracts from their ability to focus on instruction, and can lead to a feeling of inadequacy when they inevitably cannot meet every need that arises from outside the academic sphere. Furthermore, it can inadvertently undermine the crucial role of parents and guardians, suggesting that their responsibilities can be outsourced to the school system.
Moreover, while a teacher's care is professional and extends to all students, a parent's love is deeply personal and unique to their child. Conflating these roles can confuse boundaries for students and create unrealistic expectations. Children thrive when they understand the distinct roles of the adults in their lives: parents provide the foundational care and guidance, while teachers provide the structured learning and academic mentorship.
To truly support our students, we must empower teachers to be the best educators they can be. This means respecting their professional boundaries, providing them with the resources to teach effectively, and ensuring that the primary responsibility of raising children is left to the parents and guardians, not the classroom teacher. When we allow teachers to focus on their vital role as educators, we strengthen our schools, support our families, and ultimately, create a more effective and sustainable learning environment for every child.
Years later, I subtitled my doctoral dissertation, the classroom as a haven. What I learned from the research I did for the dissertation, is that children may see the classroom as a haven and feel safe, but they don't forget the lives and experiences (some traumatic) that they live each and every day outside of the classroom. In fact, just the opposite. Children bring those burdens in with them and sometimes need the safety and security of the classroom environment to express those feelings of unsafe and insecurity. The conclusion to my dissertation in response to my findings was that teachers are NOT academically, nor personally, prepared to deal effectively with the trauma that sometimes is exposed by classroom procedures, cultures, and/or practices.
But the expectation that teachers ARE exposed to the effects of exposure to trauma and are SUPPOSED to be able to deal with it and still teach children from a myriad of backgrounds to read at proficient levels, sometimes in languages they are still learning and sometimes with little support from home. So we become caretakers. And this is where we currently stand in elementary education: be a professional and teach children skills, but do it in spite of the challenges that children bring with them as a result of trauma such as domestic violence, environmental violence, poverty, and "-isms".
So it is no surprise that, as I was driving behind a Subaru the other day, I saw a license plate frame that said, "I am a mother of 30. I am a teacher." It threw me for a second and, in all honesty I was driving so maybe I was feeling prickly, but it also offended me as a father and parent of two school-age boys. The frame definitely threw me in a dilemma - I am a teacher who believes even my college students ought to feel safe and I would do what I can to help them - but I don't grieve for them if they lose a friend, or pay their insurance, or feel- deep in the marrow - their disappointments and joys as I do with my own boys. That is what prompted this submission and the upcoming podcast episode - yes, I am going to start it again with a flurry of three episodes. Teachers aren't parents to their students and for the following reasons, shouldn't be seen as parents and shouldn't feel like parents to their students.
In recent years, a subtle yet significant shift has occurred in the perception of a teacher's role. Increasingly, educators are being expected to fill gaps traditionally left by parents, leading to a blurring of lines that ultimately harms both students and the teaching profession. It's time to unequivocally state: teachers are not, and should not be, surrogate moms and dads for their students.
The primary role of a teacher is to educate. They are experts in curriculum delivery, pedagogical strategies, and fostering intellectual growth. Their classrooms are spaces for learning, critical thinking, and skill development. This is a monumental task in itself, requiring immense dedication, skill, and resources. When teachers are burdened with responsibilities that extend far beyond academic instruction—such as extensive emotional counseling, providing basic necessities, or enforcing discipline that should originate in the home—their core mission is diluted.
This isn't to say teachers don't care deeply about their students' well-being. A good teacher naturally fosters a supportive and nurturing environment, and they often serve as crucial mentors and trusted adults. They are frequently the first to notice when a student is struggling, whether academically, emotionally, or physically. In such cases, their role is to identify these issues and, crucially, to connect students and families with appropriate support systems and resources, not to become those support systems themselves.
The expectation that teachers act as parents places an unfair and unsustainable burden on them. It contributes to burnout, detracts from their ability to focus on instruction, and can lead to a feeling of inadequacy when they inevitably cannot meet every need that arises from outside the academic sphere. Furthermore, it can inadvertently undermine the crucial role of parents and guardians, suggesting that their responsibilities can be outsourced to the school system.
Moreover, while a teacher's care is professional and extends to all students, a parent's love is deeply personal and unique to their child. Conflating these roles can confuse boundaries for students and create unrealistic expectations. Children thrive when they understand the distinct roles of the adults in their lives: parents provide the foundational care and guidance, while teachers provide the structured learning and academic mentorship.
To truly support our students, we must empower teachers to be the best educators they can be. This means respecting their professional boundaries, providing them with the resources to teach effectively, and ensuring that the primary responsibility of raising children is left to the parents and guardians, not the classroom teacher. When we allow teachers to focus on their vital role as educators, we strengthen our schools, support our families, and ultimately, create a more effective and sustainable learning environment for every child.