There was a whole lot of buzz at my house last month as the days led up to July 21 – the debut of not just one epic film, but two: Barbie and Oppenheimer. My daughter filled us in on all of the drama surrounding the release date as it is rare for two major films to be launched on the same date – and especially by such powerhouse directors like Greta Gerwig (Barbie) and Christopher Nolan (Oppenheimer). But what started as a puzzling decision became a brilliant marketing strategy as both films dominated the box office. And while Oppenheimer continues to get rave reviews, Barbie literally blew up the film industry grossing a mind-blowing $1.3 billion (that’s billion with a “b“), making it the highest-grossing movie of 2023. And she is not done yet. At last glance, she was #15 on the all-time worldwide box office grosses, having just surpassed Super Mario Bros this past week.
I was particularly interested in this movie because of my daughter, Caitlyn. She heads to college in 48 hours (in Boston) and while I love spending time with her, she is my social justice warrior – and this film was right up her alley. If you are one of the few who has not seen Barbie, let me say that it isn’t a fluffy rom-com about Barbie and Ken. It is a brilliant film that juxtaposes the most incredible aspect of Barbie – that you can be anything (doctor, teacher, lawyer, vet) with the notion that in some ways, Barbie (aka, women), can be viewed as little more than an accessory.
There was one scene in the film that left an indelible mark – and that was the monologue. Written by Greta Gerwig and performed flawlessly by America Ferrera, it described the plight of being a woman. One of the snippets from the monologue said this: “You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin.“
I left the theatre when the movie and that monologue hung with me. But the tug on my soul wasn’t just about the plight of women… I saw this film in the middle of the back-to-school season, where I get to visit so many schools and meet their educators as I keynote their Convocations. The tug on my soul was about the plight of our educators – who literally breathe life into children and prepare them for their futures. Yet they are underpaid, undervalued and in many places (including my home state of Texas), treated by legislators and state leaders like they are doing everything wrong. So I felt like they should have a monologue too.
Just as a reminder, the brilliant, original Barbie monologue was written by Greta Gerwig and performed by America Ferrera. The words below are an adaptation of that monologue for educators.
It is literally impossible to be an educator. You are so creative, and so smart, and it kills me that you don’t think you’re good enough. Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow, some people feel that we’re always doing it wrong.
You have to connect with kids, but not get too close. You have to like kids and be liked by kids. And you can never say you want to be liked by kids. You have to say you want to be respected. But also you have to connect with, be liked by, and be respected by kids.
You must have high expectations. But you must also recognize that each individual student has unique needs and situations that need accommodating. You have to assess using meaningful and authentic assessments. And also make sure that none of your assessments are irrelevant because of google or can be outmaneuvered by ChatGPT. You have to hold kids accountable. And also make sure that their individual strengths and gifts are recognized and valued. But also you must have high expectations and hold kids accountable.Â
You have to incorporate technology. But not technology for technology’s sake, but technology in a way that will impact the learning, but also not take away from the learning. And you may or may not get support as you try. And your kids may or may not have access to them outside of school. But also you must incorporate technology.
But always stand up for your students and always be grateful. But never forget that standardized test scores and A-F rating systems are not the best way to assess or celebrate your students. So find a way to acknowledge that, but also always be grateful.Â
You have to always be there for kids as their teacher, their coach, as a bonus parent, as a soft place to land, a safe place to eat lunch, as their cheerleader, as their counselor – but never as their friend.
It’s too hard! It’s too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you! And it turns out, in fact, that some people think that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault.
I’m just so tired of watching myself and every single other educator tie themselves into knots so that people will recognize the life-giving work that you do. And if all of that is also true for every single phenomenal human being that works in our school communities, then I don’t even know.
The work our educators do, day in and day out is hard – and it is magical. They pour into our kids for hours every day and find fun and exciting ways to teach, coach, serve, mentor and support our students. And because of them, our kids can be whatever they want to be – doctors, teachers, lawyers, veterinarians, entrepreneurs – which is the greatest gift we can give them. So the next time you’re reviewing your own student’s school work or driving by a neighborhood school, send some love toward them. Because they are not only changing lives every single day, they are truly the most phenomenal human beings around!
Jill M Siler 