We’re Watching
The widespread importance of the Minneapolis Teachers Strike
By: Stella Mehlhoff
When quarantine started in March of 2020, my mom started making videos with talking plastic dinosaurs. Yes, things in my house got out of hand very quickly. It started with an idea for a story series in Spanish for her high school class and spiraled into hours of footage and a permanent “studio” in my living room—consisting of the beloved green dinosaurio, as well as a miniature rocking chair, lamp, stove, guitar… you name it, that dinosaur had it. Clearly, it was a creative outlet for my very artistic mom, but it was also a way to bring whimsy, laughter, and a little bit of vocab to students she knew were having trouble getting out of their beds. I have always admired this quality in my mom, her ability to spin joy into dull days. In most ways, I want to be just like her, and yet, I have never wanted to be a teacher.
I’m not sure when this conviction started, but as I grew older, with a dual perspective in the education system, I received little reason to doubt it. I’ve had ample examples of good teachers who have supported their students, but I’ve almost never seen anyone supporting them. In my hometown school, most of the classrooms have no windows, the bathrooms rarely have stocked paper towel dispensers or working sinks, and once, a mouse fell from a leaking ceiling tile. Combined with unspectacular salaries and little to no administrative support, these conditions have made a rewarding job into an exhausting one. During the recession of 2009, my mom was laid off before a whole day of class, in which an administrator observed her teaching for the first time that year. I, for one, am sick of watching my mentors being treated with such blatant disrespect.
Since the pandemic, things have reached a breaking point. Teachers have become impossible to find. In a survey by the National Education Association, 28% of educators say their experiences teaching during COVID-19 have made them more likely to leave teaching. According to Education Minnesota, only 12% of educators in the state report being happy in their jobs. Desperate for substitute teachers, schools have gone to extreme measures—in some places calling on the National Guard, eliminating all application requirements but a background check and a high school diploma, and begging parents to fill in empty positions. This is a damning reflection of the state of the profession but is also an opportunity for change. While districts may not be able to afford to meet their demands, they also can’t afford not to.
On March 8, the Minneapolis teachers strike began, along with negotiations to resolve several issues. Among their asks are smaller class sizes, more equitable hiring, mental health resources for students, and livable wages. More than a week into the strike, parents are beginning to worry about how long their kids will be out of school and how they’ll provide them with childcare in the meantime. Strikes do inevitably have uncomfortable side effects, but the sought after improvements are necessary for the long-term wellbeing of students. It’s important to remember that workers don’t strike for fun but that it’s a last-ditch effort to combat significant transgressions. In fact, Minneapolis teachers haven’t gone on strike since 1970. Now, they are among the first to attempt post-quarantine education reform, and America is watching.
Even though I’m not an educator, watching the strike unfold feels personal. I am proud and protective of the teachers who are holding their ground in daily picket lines and rallies. In them, I see my choir teacher, who cried the first time we sang for her in person after months online. I see my math teacher, who always had the best playlists during calculus. I see my English teacher, who gave me a journal at my graduation party that inspired me to fill many more with stories. I see my mom, who to this day will interrupt our conversations to ask me what I think of her new idea for a YouTube video. And I hope the strikers know that what happens next means everything to me.