We expect teachers to handle teenage pregnancy, substance abuse

John Sculley, a man who once stood at the crossroads of technology and society, gave voice to a lament that echoes with timeless urgency: “We expect teachers to handle teenage pregnancy, substance abuse, and the failings of the family. Then we expect them to educate our children.” His words are a mirror held before us, showing the weight we have placed on those tasked with shaping the minds of the young. They reveal a society that burdens its teachers not only with the sacred duty of instruction, but also with the unhealed wounds of the home and the fractures of the community.

The meaning is clear: teachers are called to cultivate knowledge, yet too often they must first battle the consequences of family failings, of absent parents, of broken homes, of societal neglect. They are asked to be counselors, healers, mentors, and guardians—all before they can open a book or teach a lesson. Sculley’s words are not only a critique but a cry for recognition: the strength of teachers is extraordinary, but their burden is unjust when society abdicates its role and shifts its deepest responsibilities onto their shoulders.

History remembers such struggles. In the early days of Horace Mann, the father of American public education, schools were seen not only as places of learning but as pillars of morality and social repair. Teachers became de facto parents for the poor and the neglected, guiding children who had no other compass. Yet even Mann warned that without the support of strong families and communities, schools alone could not bear the full weight of shaping future generations. Sculley’s words echo this ancient truth: education cannot succeed when society itself refuses to take responsibility for its children.

This teaching is also a warning. When teachers are forced to spend their strength patching the wounds of social collapse, the sacred work of education itself suffers. How can a teacher nurture curiosity in mathematics or art when a child is hungry, broken by abuse, or lost in despair? How can lessons flourish when the classroom becomes a battlefield of neglected needs? Sculley shows us that the expectation is not only unfair to teachers—it is a betrayal of children, who deserve to be lifted by both home and school, not abandoned by one and rescued imperfectly by the other.

Yet there is also something heroic here. For despite these burdens, many teachers do not turn away. They feed the hungry child, they listen to the hurting soul, they mentor the lost. Their love becomes a bridge where families have faltered. They are proof that the human spirit, even when strained, can rise with compassion. Still, their sacrifice must not blind us to the truth: they cannot carry this burden alone. A society that leaves its teachers to heal its wounds without support is a society that betrays its own future.

The lesson is this: do not cast the responsibilities of family and community entirely onto the shoulders of teachers. Parents must reclaim their duty to nurture, guide, and discipline. Communities must support families and uphold the values that protect the young. Only then can teachers return to their rightful role: not as healers of brokenness, but as cultivators of wisdom and knowledge. Education is not the repair of society’s failures—it is the blossoming of potential once children are fed, safe, and loved.

Therefore, let John Sculley’s words stand as both rebuke and call to action. Honor the teachers, for they bear a weight heavier than most can imagine. But do not abandon them to fight alone. Strengthen families, heal communities, and share the burden of raising children. Then, and only then, will the classroom be free to shine as it was meant to: not as a place of rescue, but as a place of awakening, where the young can rise into their fullest promise.