Respect the bookends
If there’s one profession that deserves higher pay and greater respect, it’s that of school teacher. Even I can see that, though I’ve never had children, and therefore no direct interaction with the school system. But if the national teacher shortage hadn’t convinced me, hearing about the experiences of teacher friends definitely would. How teachers do all that they do every day is beyond me.
Another profession at the opposite end of the life spectrum that is just as deserving is that of caregivers of the elderly, especially in nursing facilities. My stroke-impaired dad spent the last decade of his life in various nursing homes, so I learned first-hand how essential it is to have a team that is truly gifted in the “care” portion of the job of caregiver. The first facility was terrible. So terrible, in fact, that I ended up reporting them to the state health department (which, by the way, investigated and ultimately did nothing). The last facility, where he spent the most time, was wonderful.
Entrusting round-the-clock care of a loved one to strangers requires a lot of faith. Faith in the system, faith in the education and training those strangers received, faith in the strangers’ basic humanity. You hope they entered the field with the right intentions, and that they discovered somewhere along the line that this is the work they were born to do.
You hope they look at your loved one and see a whole person, someone who had a full, busy, and productive life before they were assigned a small hospital bed in a room, and a crew of kids in scrubs that they’ve never met before, most young enough to be their grandchildren.
Of course, as in any profession, there will always be those who simply are not good at what they do. I often asked Dad if he was receiving good care. I said that if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t know unless he told me. And I wanted him to tell me so I could do something about it. Once, he told me about a CNA that he said was “pretty rough” with him. He said, “I think she needs to go get a job at Target or someplace.” I immediately made a report to the Director of Nursing, who took it seriously and followed up with quick, corrective action. Thankfully, that facility has an excellent reputation and it was easy to see why. When friends visited, Dad often told them, “If you have to be someplace, this is the place to be.”
Fortunately, I could visit Dad as much as I wanted, so I witnessed his care in action many times. I was consistently impressed and grateful for how his caregivers seemed to understand that a big part of their job was to engage him in conversation, joke with him, and treat him like a whole person. As his health declined, and he was no longer able to respond much, they continued to talk to him with tenderness and respect. Even when they were conversing with me, they still made sure to bring Dad into the conversation by asking his opinion and engaging him as if he could participate, even when he couldn’t.
I’ve never understood why we, as a society, don’t believe that those who educate and so deeply influence our children, and those who provide complete, round-the-clock care for our elderly are not worth a livable wage. I don’t know why we think it’s okay to disparage these essential professionals who bookend our lives, during the two stages at which we’re more vulnerable than we’ll ever be.
If you’re a teacher or a caregiver, please know that many of us believe you should be paid and pampered like the elite athletes and rock stars that you are. All I can offer is this: I hope the next time you’re having a bad day, or find yourself wondering if it’s all worth it, you’ll remember to take a moment and think about all the lives you’ve touched in a positive way, day in and day out. All the little gestures and kind words may seem minor, and may have that negligible “just part of the job” feel to them, but believe me, it all adds up and it does make a difference. You may never see the fruit, but please don’t stop planting and nurturing the seeds.
