Realities of a modern teacher
We don't live in Norman Rockewellburg anymore.
Originally published in the Moultrie News.
My son plays baseball and is one of the top players in the state at his position. He’s played for several years, and in all his games I have never seen a single teacher show up. It would mean so much for these kids to see their teachers at their sporting events and concerts. How can we get them there?
In a Norman Rockwell-style America, where schools and churches were the heart of small, tight-knit communities, I’d say you wouldn’t need to get teachers there. They’d already be there because games and concerts and such constituted a town’s primary social events.
I’m sure many people would be all for bringing back Norman Rockwellburg. Unfortunately, that world is fading fast, and your vision of teachers cheering from the bleachers is becoming rarer. Here’s why.
First, the “neighborhood school” is becoming an endangered species. Schools no longer serve as community centers; they’re just educational hubs. Elementary schools sometimes still fit the classic model, but by middle and high school, the sense of a close, local community starts to splinter. The schools and their staffs get a lot bigger. Growing towns and communities are pricing out teachers with explosive housing costs. Charter and magnet schools draw students from broader regions.
All of that matters because teachers no longer live in their communities. Many commute long distances. At my school, several teachers drive 30 to 40 minutes each way. Expecting them to return at night for a baseball game—or to wait around for three hours after school until it starts—isn’t realistic.
Even if they wanted to, today’s massive high schools—with dozens of sports teams and performance groups—make it impossible for teachers to attend every student’s event.
Another factor is this: teachers today skew younger. The Rockwellian image of the gray-haired schoolmarm is gone. Visit a high school now and it can be hard to tell the teachers from the students.
And young teachers have young families. It’s one thing for an empty nester to spend a weeknight watching a baseball game; it’s another to ask a young mom to skip dinner and family time with her own kids to see Eddie from fourth period strike out twice and ground to short.
Then there’s the “want to.” As Gen Z enters the teaching ranks, don’t expect the same appetite for face-to-face social engagement as in past generations. Studies show that Gen Z socializes less in person, participates less in traditional community institutions, and prefers digital interaction. They might happily “like” a student’s highlight reel online—but attending a two-hour ballgame or chorus concert? Less likely.
So if you want teachers in the seats, you’d probably have to require it. And that’s where contracts come in.
Before the 21st century, teaching was often viewed as a form of compensated community service. Teachers were expected to donate their time to coach, sponsor clubs, or show up at recitals and bake sales.
But years of low pay, declining respect, and falling morale have made teaching more transactional. Newer teachers see it as a job, not a calling. And like any job, if you want extra duties beyond the workday, you need to pay for them.
Could that work? Maybe. But it wouldn’t go over smoothly. Even if you offered stipends for afterschool attendance, many teachers today value personal time more than a few extra bucks, especially those with families. Start taking away time with their own children, and they’ll either switch careers or stay home altogether, especially with today’s sky-high daycare costs.
And let’s be honest: would your son really be satisfied knowing teachers came only because they were paid to?
In the end, if your son—note, I said your son, not you—truly wants a teacher there, the best approach is simple: have him ask personally. Despite today’s transactional teaching model, most teachers still care deeply about their students. When a student invites them to a concert or game, they usually do everything they can to show up.
That, in 2025, might be as close to Norman Rockwell as you’re going to get.
Jody Stallings has been an award-winning teacher in Charleston since 1992 and is director of the Charleston Teacher Alliance. To submit a question, order his books, or follow him on social media, please visit JodyStallings.com.