Most of us can still remember the feeling before the first day of school. Sneakers by the door, a backpack packed and repacked, a stomach that wouldn't settle. Parents feel it too, snapping a photo at the end of the driveway and watching the bus pull away a little too fast. So do teachers, who will tell you they still lose sleep that first night, no matter how many Septembers they've seen.

That mix of nervous excitement for a new chapter and sadness that summer is over hasn't changed in generations. Every fall, yellow buses dot communities across America, and schools open their doors the way they always have. But behind those doors, students in our backyards have been struggling, especially since the pandemic. Many are some combination of distracted, unmotivated, and burned out, and many are growing up with questions earlier generations rarely had to ask out loud: What's the point? Will any of this be enough?

After World War II, the deal was simple. Show up to school, work hard, and you had a good shot at a decent life. A high school diploma meant something, and a college education was nearly a golden ticket. That doesn't mean the "good old days" were good for everyone. Racism, sexism, and corruption were rampant. For the people systematically kept out of prosperity, there were no good old days.

Still, ordinary but necessary jobs were respected and paid enough for people to do more than survive. Earlier this summer, a reader wrote to the Journal noting that the median teacher salary in Ellenville is around $120,000, about three times the median income for everyone in Ellenville. I was shocked, so I checked the starting teacher salary. It's around $60,000, less than the inflation-adjusted starting salary in 1965. That means many of the district's teachers have been around a long time. That's a good thing. Long-tenured, experienced teachers are invested in our children and their success. Despite this, student performance has declined, and it's natural to be frustrated. Every good parent wants their kids to do better than they did; it's part of the American dream. Looking only at these numbers, it's easy to blame our teachers. But without experienced teachers who care about our children, I think we would be even worse off.

Some places, including the Rondout Valley, are starting to recover from pandemic-era declines through hard-won progress. Older federal data compiled by ProPublica put the Ellenville district's graduation rate in the low 70s. More recent figures put it around 84 percent. In 2024, the district's proficiency rates on state math and English tests each jumped 8 percentage points – the largest growth in Ulster County. Third grade reading proficiency alone rose 18 points. The district credits small elementary class sizes, a new math curriculum, full-day pre-K, and expanded behavioral intervention. Behind every one of those programs is a teacher doing the work.

The national picture is harder to look at. On the 2024 Nation's Report Card, reading scores for fourth and eighth graders were five points below 2019 levels, and eighth grade math was down eight. High school seniors posted the lowest average scores ever recorded in both reading and math. Forty-five percent of seniors scored below the basic level in math, and only a third were considered ready for college-level math, down from 37 percent in 2019.

New York's state tests show how uneven recovery can be. Reading proficiency in grades 3 – 8 rose from 46 percent in 2024 to 53 percent in 2025, then fell back to 48 percent this past spring. Math has steadily climbed from 52 percent to 57 percent over the same three years.

Then there's attendance. Before the pandemic, about 15 percent of American students were chronically absent, meaning they missed at least a tenth of the school year. That number peaked around 28 percent in 2022 and was still about 22 percent last year. Recent figures for Ellenville's junior and senior high school put it above 30 percent. Chronic absence isn't laziness. It's anxiety, illness, a missed ride, a younger sibling to watch, a shift at work to help cover rent. You can't teach a child who isn't in the room, and teachers know it better than anyone.

Adolescence has always been an existential time. Who am I? What am I good at? Where do I fit? What's new is how heavy those questions have become. In 2023, 40 percent of American high school students told the CDC they felt persistently sad or hopeless, up from roughly 30 percent a decade earlier. Among girls, it was 53 percent.

Part of that weight comes from technology. The phone in every pocket brought social media into the cafeteria, the bedroom, and the middle of the night. Now artificial intelligence is arriving on top of it, and young people are uneasy. In Gallup's surveys this year, eight in ten members of Gen Z said AI tools built to finish tasks faster will likely make learning harder. Nearly half of recent college graduates told pollsters for Just Capital they worry AI will cut into entry-level jobs in their field. Only 43 percent of Americans ages 15 to 34 now say it's a good time to find a job where they live, down from 75 percent in 2022.

Entry-level jobs are the bottom rungs of the ladder. They're where young people learn judgment, build skills, and earn their way up. When kids sense those rungs may be disappearing, it's hard to blame them for wondering whether the climb is worth it. Children aren't asking, "What do I want to be when I grow up?" anymore. They're asking, "Where will there be a place for me?"

Teachers are forced to reckon with these questions every day, often without answers of their own. A 2025 RAND survey found teachers work about 49 hours a week, roughly ten more than their contracts require. Their average base pay was about $73,000, around $30,000 less than other working adults with similar education. Only 46 percent of teachers said they were better off financially than their parents, compared to 61 percent of similar professionals. This year, nearly a third reported holding a second job, and teachers spent an average of $665 of their own money on classroom supplies.

The most common source of stress wasn't pay. It was managing student behavior, cited by more than half of teachers. When kids are anxious, absent, and unsure about their futures, it shows up in the classroom and disrupts learning for everyone.

It's no wonder fewer people are choosing the profession. Enrollment in New York's teacher education programs has fallen by more than half since 2009. Teachers are living the same broken promise as their students. They worked hard, earned their degrees, and chose a life of service, only to find that persistence doesn't always pay the bills.

I don't believe teachers have failed our kids. I believe they've been handed a Herculean task, asked to carry more than any one profession can: academic recovery after a pandemic, a mental health crisis, a technological revolution, and a culture war that treats them and their students like targets.

As with the other issues I've discussed, there's no single fix, but there are many places to start. First, support the phone ban. Under a new state law, Ellenville Jr./Sr. High School students have locked their phones in pouches from arrival to dismissal since last September. Rules like this work best when families back them up at home. Talk with your kids about screen time, set phone-free hours at dinner and bedtime, and put your own phone down too. Children learn more from what we do than from what we say.

Second, help build the bridge between school and work. Local businesses, farms, and nonprofits can offer internships, job shadowing, and mentorship. Programs like Ellenville's P-TECH Academy and the career programs at Ulster BOCES already connect students with real skills and real employers. They work better when the rest of us pitch in. A teenager who spends a summer working alongside someone who knows their trade learns something no test can measure.

Third, treat teachers like human beings and give them the respect they deserve. Ask them what they need. When you disagree with a decision, remember that the person in front of the classroom probably didn't make it.

I'd love to hear from you. Did a teacher change your life? If you're a teacher or a student in the Rondout Valley today, what worries you that the rest of us don't see? What would make your days a little easier?

School buses will keep rolling kids toward a future none of us can fully predict. The old promise that hard work alone is enough may be fraying. But there's another promise being kept every school day, by the teachers waiting at the other end of that ride. As long as they're doing their part, we can pitch in too.