Carlton Jenkins learned how to be a leader for 36 years. He flew OH-58 Kiowa Warrior helicopters on armed reconnaissance missions and taught other pilots at Fort Rucker. He also made lesson plans for soldiers who had to know enough about aerodynamics to stay alive. By the time he retired at age 52 in 2011, he no longer had to think about being a leader. It was how he always got around.
What no one told him, and what veterans aren’t really prepared for, is that going from working in the military to working in a public school classroom can be hard because of all the rules and regulations that seem to be made to stop the very people that the government wants to help.
In the end, Jenkins made it through. He has taught American history to sixth-graders at Lake Ridge Middle School in Woodbridge, Virginia, since 2013. If you go into his classroom on a normal Tuesday morning, you’ll notice that it has a natural order to it. At the front of the room are three hard-to-miss rules: be polite to each other, follow the Golden Rule, and only speak once. When he asks a question, he looks all over the room to see who is paying attention, who isn’t, and who is about to answer before he calls on them. A lot of hands go up. Not every teacher can say that.
Troops to Teachers is the name of the program that helped Jenkins get here. It is run by DANTES, which stands for the Defense Activity for Non-Traditional Education Support. Its sole purpose is to assist former service members in making the switch to working in public schools. Jenkins is clear about what it gave him: a structured way to deal with state licensing requirements, classes, and the general fog of becoming a civilian again after almost 40 years of running an institution.
That’s something to think about for a moment, because it’s easy to think that veterans would do well as teachers. They know how to lead groups, make lesson plans, keep order without making kids scared, and explain difficult ideas when they’re under a lot of stress. As a flight instructor at Fort Rucker, Jenkins did all of those things. Belinda Osborne, who works with him at Lake Ridge as a teacher, said it plainly: teaching students and training soldiers aren’t that different after all. It takes the same amount of patience and order to break down a skill for a nervous new pilot as it does to teach an eleven-year-old about the American Revolution.
The way most states handle credentials, though, doesn’t see it that way. Even if a veteran teacher has decades of documented experience, they still have to meet the same requirements as someone who just graduated from college. No, that’s not an argument against standards. It’s just a point of view that the standards weren’t written with Jenkins in mind.
Some school administrators and education researchers think that the difference between what veterans bring to the table and what certification bodies need has kept a lot of talented people out of the classroom. Jenkins got his Virginia teaching license before getting his master’s degree in education from Old Dominion University. Not every veteran can do that because they don’t have the time, money, or help from the government. It’s still not clear how many people have tried but given up.
But what can be seen is what happens when someone does make it through. Ashleigh Burnette, Jenkins’ assistant principal, said that veterans are usually well-behaved in school because they are organized, sure of themselves, and used to working in a hierarchy. His pupils say he is interested in history since he lived through it. He cares about the country and wants to help students, as one of them put it more simply.
Jenkins himself said that he didn’t think he would find something like camaraderie, mission, and a sense of purpose outside of the Army at Lake Ridge Middle School. These things didn’t go away when he turned in his uniform. “I found a way to continue to serve,” he replied. That wasn’t a line meant to be dramatic. That’s what someone says after they’ve had time to reflect on their life.
