During the COVID-19 lockdowns, I taught two summer literature and research writing courses at an online classical K-12 school after 15 years of teaching college courses. I expected little from the new teaching experience—my university students often showed little interest in reading and viewed my course as just another hurdle to a degree. Teaching them drained me, leaving me discouraged and disappointed. I assumed that middle and secondary school students would be no different. However, I was wrong. If you share my initial skepticism about teaching in classical K-12 schools, this article is for you.
In a recent podcast with Great Hearts Institute, Mark Bauerlein encouraged adjuncts and new PhDs to consider classical K-12 schools as an alternative to post-secondary institutions. He highlighted that, unlike adjuncts—who are undervalued and exploited in universities—classical K-12 teachers are respected, well-compensated, and offered long-term contracts, with their expertise appreciated by administrators, colleagues, parents, and students.
Having worked as a contingent university faculty member since 2012 and having taught the eye-opening summer school courses, I wholeheartedly agree with Bauerlein’s recommendation: teaching at a classical school is worth it for each of these reasons. But something Bauerlein failed to expand upon is what I would like to take up here: that along with the aforementioned benefits, the quality of students and the rigorous curricula and standards are what truly can make teaching in classical schools an educator’s dream come true.
By the time most students from public schools enter university, practices like standardized testing, the use of constructivist teaching methods and the “teacher-as-facilitator” model, student-centered learning, an overemphasis on gamification and technology, and the dumbing down of curricula have dulled their naturally inquisitive nature. Ask them what they want from a course, and they will essentially tell you, “An ‘A’ on the almighty transcript.” Further, students from public schools often enter university devoid of fundamental knowledge in many subjects, including English, history, and math and have no aspiration for improvement.
In comparison to the lackluster attitude toward the learning of most college students, classical schoolchildren, and especially homeschoolers, often retain a refreshing, genuine curiosity for the subject matter and the world around them. Not only that, but they tend to be more able to make insightful connections between the material being taught and other disciplines. In my classical school literature course, for instance, students voluntarily connected Plato’s Apology—which they were studying in class—to ancient Greek law and even chose to bring up during discussion the chemical properties of the poison hemlock weed, which ended the life of Socrates.
Teaching classical courses was rewarding because my students’ curiosity and joy energized me, allowing me to reinvest that energy into teaching. Unlike university students, my classical students didn’t expect to be entertained or rewarded externally. I didn’t need to simplify the material, use excessive visuals, or break lessons into short chunks to keep their attention.
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In contrast, today’s college students are often coddled, affirmed, and accommodated by institutions that promote a culture of victimhood and grievance. They’re given extra test time, flexible deadlines, safe spaces, and lecture notes to compensate for distractions, anxiety, or lack of self-discipline. My classical students, however, thrived under rigorous standards and never complained about assignments, homework, or the demands placed on them.
To be sure, most college and university students are unfit for higher education either because they had poor schooling in K-12 or lack the aptitude for or interest in academics. We pass most students because not doing so would mean a litany of unpaid responsibilities—meetings with department heads and deans, extra paperwork, reduced sleep, and possibly non-renewal of teaching contracts. But those of us on the academic fringes might ask ourselves if there’s something better—something that doesn’t involve teaching students who increasingly view education as a mere obstacle to making money. As it stands, contingent faculty members are cogs in a machine, dedicating our work to offering a service students don’t want or appreciate.
When I tell disgruntled adjuncts how much I enjoyed my part-time classical teaching gig, the response is always something like, “I could never teach middle or high school! I’ve worked too hard to get here!”—as if teaching in classical K-12 meant working in an intellectual wasteland. If we were honest, we’d admit that university teaching isn’t as intellectually or emotionally rewarding as it could be. Most university courses today—especially in the humanities—pale in comparison to those offered in classical K-12 schools, where students tend to be better prepared, sharper, and more well-rounded.
College and university adjuncts and recent PhDs: like Bauerlein, I wholeheartedly encourage you to “test the waters” and consider classical K-12 education as a viable alternative to teaching at a post-secondary institution. It’s like the college teaching experience you wish you had but don’t and probably never will. You owe it to yourself. And you deserve it.
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I don’t think people realize just how bad public K-12 has become, how bad the purportedly “good” schools in the leafy suburbs have become.