Bagels and Teaching

Note: I've largely stopped writing book reviews. Motherhood and teaching are just too much for me. But I have occasionally written some informal essays. My students are currently writing college application essays, which means personal narratives that "sell" them as a student. This is my "adult" college application essay.

When I was in high school, I worked at Einstein Bros. Bagels. It wasn’t a great job, and my primary accomplishment by the time I quit before leaving for college was that my salary had increased from $6/hr to $6.25/hr. Over the course of those two years, however, I came to have strong opinions about bagel operations, including the application of cream cheese.

Most customers came in for a straightforward bagel and cream cheese, which meant we schmeared those two items together regularly throughout the day. The large tubs of cream cheese came with ice cream style scoops, and many employees simply scooped up some plain, plopped it in the middle of the everything bagel, closed the bagel, and handed it to the customer.

The downside of this type of serving is obvious: the cream cheese is not spread throughout the entirety of the bagel but instead oozes out through both sides of the hole.

Conversely, I always used our flat schmearing knives to evenly spread the cream cheese over the bagel before firmly pressing the bagel together. It took a little more time, but the customer had a ready-to-eat breakfast rather than a mess needing cleanup.

I’ve not thought much about that job since, but looking back, I realize that my extra effort was a result of my belief in doing the best at whatever it is I did. I didn’t have a passion for cream cheese, but I’d chosen to take on the responsibility of a job, and because I valued myself as a person, I was going to do that job well.

Fifteen years later, I’m in the middle of my tenth year as a teacher. My students--tired and overworked high school juniors--often plead for a “chill day.” Or ask why I assign them writing assignments when I’m only “punishing” myself by having to grade an enormous stack of essays.

I always have the same answer for them: I do so because I value myself as a person and as a professional. Because I couldn’t come to school and teach each day if I thought my contribution to the world was so meaningless that we might as well have a “chill day.”

I became a teacher for all the traditional reasons: a love of reading and writing; a feeling of satisfaction in working with young people and seeing them grow. But there are days when I groan at re-treading Huck Finn another year; days when the blank stares coming from twenty-some 17-year-olds suggest I could just as well be reading the phone book.

On those days, what drives me isn't an all-consuming dedication to today's youth or the English language. Instead, it's self-respect. It's a belief that what I do reflects me as a person. And for that reason, I can't half-ass it.

I didn't care about my customers' breakfast enjoyment; those customers got well-schmeared bagels because I cared about myself. And whether I adore my current students or not, they get the best education I can provide. I don't do it out of altruistic, self-sacrificing devotion; I do it for me.