It’s Teacher Appreciation Week. Across the country, students are writing heartfelt notes, school boards are issuing proclamations, and social media is filling up with photos of thank-you signs, coffee carts, and PTA-sponsored breakfasts. And yes—every gesture matters.

For me, being an educator is not just a profession—it’s in my blood. I come from a long line of educators: my grandmother was a librarian at Houghton Middle School in Saginaw, my great-grandmother chaired the school board in Saginaw’s Buena Vista district, and according to family lore, my aunt was the first Black superintendent of Buena Vista. I began my own path teaching fourth grade in a 21st Century program in Palo Alto, taught English as a Second Language, and have since taught undergraduates, master’s students, and Ph.D. candidates. I’ve seen firsthand the labor, heart, and hope that educators pour into their work every day—and I deeply appreciate all that they do.

But if we’re being honest, appreciation without action is just branding.

Teachers don’t need another mug that says “World’s Best.”

They need respect.

They need protection.

They need paychecks that match their value.

They need policies that reflect their purpose—not punish it.

Because right now, many of the same politicians and institutions posting thank-you tweets are pushing policies that erode public education. They’re banning books, silencing curriculum, attacking unions, and gutting the funding that keeps classrooms alive. Appreciation without investment is exploitation.

Let’s be clear: teachers are doing far more than delivering instruction.

They are holding children through grief.

They are buffering youth from housing instability, hunger, and trauma.

They are guiding, counseling, translating, coaching, mentoring—often in environments where they’re undervalued and under fire.

And for educators of color, especially Black, Indigenous, and Latinx teachers, the stakes are even higher. They carry the additional weight of representation while navigating institutional barriers that too often drive them out of the profession.

So this Teacher Appreciation Week, let’s do more than perform gratitude. Let’s fight for the structural conditions that would make true appreciation possible:

• Fully fund public schools so teachers don’t have to crowdfund basic supplies.

• Defend educators from political attacks that criminalize honest conversations about race, gender, and history.

• Support teacher autonomy by rejecting standardized testing regimes that reduce teaching to test prep.

• Respect collective bargaining rights and the power of unions to protect the profession.

Appreciation shouldn’t be seasonal.

It shouldn’t be symbolic.

It should be systemic.

So yes—write the note. Bring the apples. Share the memory of the teacher who changed your life. But then ask yourself: What have I done, or what can I do, to ensure the profession survives for the next generation of students—and teachers?

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