I first saw my own words in print when I was 19 years-old. It was “ethnic awareness week” at university, and, yes, this was 1993 and not 1956. From what I could gather, this mainly involved a few extra samosas in the canteen. I thought it was tokenistic and, frankly, quite offensive, and I said so. I was stunned to see my words published in the university newsletter (alongside a rather defensive counter-argument).

I’ve never been a fan of tokenism. I love a goody bag as much as the next person, but if you treat me like a robot for the rest of the school year, a bit of chocolate on a Friday really isn’t going to cut it.

Now you’d have to be a robot yourself not to have been moved by the many wonderful tributes to teachers on World Teachers’ Day on Friday. If you haven’t seen Ian Wright’s tribute to the teacher who made a difference to his life, you must. I’ve watched it at least 20 times and it gets me in the gut every time. Even Jeremy Corbyn retweeted it. Which is lovely. Really, it is.

However, we have a crisis on our hands in the UK. We have a crisis at the heart of which is a fundamental sense that many, many teachers don’t feel valued. The statistics I collected for my book, How to Survive in Teaching, leave little room for debate. At national level, just 2 per cent of teachers “agreed” or “strongly agreed” with the statement “I feel supported by government/policymakers”, and the result was the same in response to the statement “I feel supported by the media”.

Teachers don’t feel supported by government

As Tes’ Ed Dorrell said, perceptions of teachers have shifted from the post-Thatcher view that we are all fundamentally lazy to one of pity: “What poor bugger would do a job like that?” I’m not sure which is more revolting… surely politicians should be taking regular opportunities to celebrate excellent practice in schools? Or even take the time to engage with actual teachers before they make decisions?

There’s a phrase from a now ex-teacher which continues to haunt me. “I would have stayed if I hadn’t been treated as if I were inherently in need of fixing.” At institutional level, the “could do better” mantra can’t but wear teachers down. Not good enough? Still not good enough? It’s easy to see why some teachers choose to walk away.

Now, I’m not advocating a fluffy bunny back-patting culture whereby everyone gets told how fabulous they are all of the time. But the odd “thank you” and quiet acknowledgement of a job well done when we influence thousands of lives every week goes a long way.

At a personal level, we can give ourselves such a hard time. Perfectionism is the very scourge of the profession. Taken in lethal combination with the factors above, it can drive teachers, sometimes literally, to implode, explode or walk away. And they do walk away in their droves. The crisis is far from getting better and is now accompanied by financial constraints which see growing class sizes and every last hour squeezed out of already exhausted teachers.

One day of schmaltzy quotes about the difference we make is all well and good, but we need more meaningful solutions. We need to feel not just appreciated, but also actually listened to. Others need to recognise, as we do, the magnitude, privilege and world-changing significance of the job teachers do.

Emma Kell is a secondary teacher in north-east London and author of How to Survive in Teaching