I stumbled across this interview last week and immediately groaned. Great, another non-educator (yes, this can even include former educators) showing us how to teach. That sounds pessimistic and mean spirited, but it is intended more as a commentary on how teachers are pushed into a passive role within the educational field.

As a traveling teacher, I spent two months of the year “borrowing” the classroom of a follow colleague who’s shelves positively burst with comics: a class set of the Watchmen, numerous copies of Maus, and Persepolis (since they have somehow become the only comics that teachers acknowledge as existing…), plenty of that dirty stuff we’re supposed to keep away from kids (aka Vertigo titles, Strangers in Paradise, The Walking Dead), tons of superheroes, manga, you name it. The teacher spent a fortune, I presume, on these titles. I saw him utilizing comics in his curriculum on a regular basis (I recall, for instance, a unit on autobiographical writing using some of the aforementioned texts as well as The Rabbi’s Cat and a manga title I was unfamiliar with).

I asked some of his kids about the comics and all of them – I repeat, all of them – said they were fun to read. Both male and female students read a hefty helping of comic books. Kids regularly trickled in during lunch to pick up the latest trade they were reading. This teacher successfully incorporated comics into his everyday teaching practice. Kids were engaged during silent reading, throughout the lesson, and even at home. The comics helped transition reluctant readers toward standard-fare novels.

No one paid this teacher to develop a comic book framework for his classroom. He didn’t go to buy a manual showing him how to use comics in a standards-aligned classroom. Instead, he found an instructional strategy (clearly one he was already passionate about), and figured out how to best engage and personalize the learning experiences for his students. From the overwhelming anecdotal evidence I received from his students over the two months I spent in his class, it was clearly an effective model. This is the teacher that should have penned a book about utilizing comics. He should be leading professional development sessions for our school and our district.

I single this teacher out in this instance to illustrate that there are similar skills represented by all of our teachers. Think about the sheer amount of expertise that is being disregarded within our schools. Sharing such work at annual conferences and in journals isn’t going to be enough (even though I participate in both mediums): frankly, I suspect it’s the same select cadre of teachers from schools circling within these pools. The vast majority of the teachers – at my school at least – are not going to conferences or reading journals (it’s the work for the perceived “teacher leaders”: department chairs, coaches, and ‘those loudmouths that speak up in faculty meetings’).

If we want to get things right it’s going to take a larger shift in how teachers are perceived.

It’s going to have to start with how we perceive ourselves.

I haven’t looked at – let alone read – Comics in Your Curriculum. I can’t vouch for whether it is any good. However, reading the interview, I question why this book came into existence without the consultation of (let alone being authored by)  teachers. I didn’t intend to pick on this title in particular, it acts as more of an exemplar of what I am arguing against. As a group of disenfranchised professionals, there isn’t any reason why we shouldn’t be developing these kinds of plans and manuals alongside our students. Why are we letting publishers and textbook tycoons dictate our careers for us? I’m all for having guests come in and aid and collaborate in the classroom. However, it’s time to shift how curriculum is manufactured, interpreted, and consumed. It’s time to make sure teachers are a part of this process every step of the way.