So much is taken, and yet little is given. This is true among the best of the best in education, and across most industries, I suspect. Our most talented and passionate employees are called on to do so much, and they ask for so little. Over time, we take and take from them and pour into them less and less. We ask them to lead some new initiative or a new committee. We beg them to mentor others. We pray they do not quit.

Oh yes, it is true that they have likely received a well-deserved kudo or note of thanks along the way. Educators are some of the kindest and most compassionate people on earth. They are more likely than most to be considerate and thoughtful. Yes, we do say, “Thank You” a lot in our industry, and that’s a great thing. Some of our best teachers might even win a prestigious award along the way, hung proudly in an office somewhere.

And then Monday comes, and Tuesday follows closely behind. And they are back at it, behind a closed door in the 100 Wing. Maybe we just need to be reminded of that. Maybe we need a reminder that so many great teachers work quietly and passionately, without complaint, investing their personal and professional lives in children who are not their own. There are countless examples of teachers who have literally saved the lives of children that they have just met and will never see again. It comes with the job. It is comforting to know that even though the world does not know their names, the students always do.

Just saying. Maybe we need to consider an approach that doesn’t just value teachers but honors their worth in more tangible ways, and that truly amplifies their voice. Admittedly, we don’t always get this right. Teacher turnover and retention is such an industry-wide crisis that we navigate much of our hiring and growth strategies around planned obsolescence, like we gotta have more lightbulbs in stock cause they’re gonna burn out soon. We lose so many good and promising teachers that we need some refreshing ideas for lifting them up through solutions that we don’t understand just yet. Maybe our planned obsolescence strategy needs to be more like a planned coherence approach that includes a much deeper focus on personal and professional growth via a cycle that involves affirmation, recognition, self-expression, and transformation. No matter what that looks like, it must make our teachers feel more valuable and less expendable.

In my work, I have the privilege of working with some of the top teachers across our school districts. At a recent event, I had the opportunity to give voice to some of the best educators in our industry. In attendance were many current and former Teachers of the Year, super-talented instructional coaches, and other top-notch educators. As an ice-breaker activity, we asked these veteran educators what they needed from our one-day event and what they brought to the table.

We were expecting answers related to curriculum and instructional needs, maybe a new strategy or more planning time. What we found among this casual assembly of the best-of-the-best in our industry was while their skills and expertise were mighty, their asks were small. Via this simple exercise, we learned so much about what makes them great, and what they really craved personally and professionally. It was not their expertise as teachers that was illuminated, it was their authenticity. It was their capacity to care, and to lead others.

You see, they didn’t ask for smaller class sizes or even dry-erase markers. They asked for things like connection, camaraderie, and transparency. Below is a short summary list of their responses. In fact, none of these top-notch teachers listed a specific classroom strategy or curriculum need. When asked what they brought to the event that made them uniquely skilled in their work, they mentioned things like patience and positivity. Several said they were good at encouraging others.

When they were asked what they needed from the event or at this time in their careers, they requested things like fresh ideas and new perspectives. They sought a unique brand of intellectual challenge and professional connection that only other teachers could provide them. This is probably a good time to remind us that the opposite of connection is isolation, and the opposite of things like ideas and transparency is bureaucracy. Let that sink in for a moment and consider what it means for how we lead our schools and districts.

The most telling comment among their responses was the repeated request for confidence. Yes, you heard that right. Some of our best teachers were surveyed and they told us they lacked confidence. Somehow and some way, we have not done enough to recognize their worth, elevate their expertise, and encourage them to lead.

In some way or another, we must address the systems and structures within our organizations that increase individual worth and professional engagement. Though our efforts may be well-intended, there is more at play here in cultivating professional growth than viewing things through the narrow prism of promotion and pay. The solutions we seek are probably available and achievable, if only we sought them out. We would all benefit by spending more time asking our best teachers what they need, honoring their work and sacrifice, and soaking up their brilliance.