The idea of professionalism is bullshit. As a teacher, people often call me a very professional employee. I show up to work every day and on time. I dress well to work. I get all my reports and deliverables in on time. I do my job and do it, in every sense of the word, professionally.

My problem with professionalism isn’t quite what it demands from the American workforce. My problem is the implication. At its core, professionalism is an elitist concept. To be a “professional” puts you in a class above those who aren’t professional, to gloat in your status as someone higher than the average person. Just because I show up on time doesn’t necessarily make me better at my job than someone who doesn’t.

The problem with professionalism, beyond its implication, is it doesn’t leave much room for human connection or vulnerability. It requires a certain guardedness at work. I know many people who have no desire to fraternize with co-workers and keep a strong social distance (metaphorically) between their personal and professional lives.

I respect those decisions, but I’m an advocate for my workplace, at the very least, to be less professional in the sense that not everyone has to put on a show and act like they have it all together when they don’t. I sit in meetings where everyone pats themselves on the back, and no one admits what they struggle with or any issues they have in the workplace.

We all have the same job and struggle with the same things as teachers, from workload to classroom management to more. Is the culture of “shut up and do your job” really conducive to a positive work environment? I’m not saying every meeting should be a relentless airing of grievances, but grievances will be aired in some form or another, and when teachers get together, this is often what happens.

Professionalism implies a lack of authenticity, an environment where making mistakes and taking risks is frowned upon. It requires putting on a show instead of showing your true self. To some extent, professionalism means someone different to everyone, and again, many people like professional distance.

But professionals, even if we want to consider ourselves part of that elite class, are people too. We have problems. We make mistakes. We have senses of humor and personalities. And the moment we start seeing people as professionals first, human beings second, is when the workplace becomes an area where you have to walk on eggshells and become robotic manifestations of our roles.

Again, I think showing up on time is important, as is doing the basic requirements of your job. However, can’t it be rebranded in a way that isn’t as elitist as it is? If I don’t show up to work on time and don’t show up to work on the day, someone else will have to cover my classes. Someone else will have to cover my responsibilities, and I would, in effect, be a complete asshole to my co-workers and staff.

My friend shares my grievances with professionalism as a white supremacist, elitist concept. He further suggested that professionalism was a way to uphold the status quo and bolster the status of white male values over all else. I’m not quite sure if I would go that far. While we will not change the world overnight, we wondered why professionalism couldn’t be called “not being an asshole” or “baseline accountability.”

I’m not taking away the seriousness of a job or a role when I advocate discarding our idea of professionalism. Instead, I simply chafe against the bourgeois values professionalism represents. Sure, dressing nicely to work is great — it doesn’t automatically make you good at your job, and it doesn’t make you better than anyone. It is a ruse to defend the status quo.

What’s the alternative? Meritocracy? That has its own issues. To a certain extent, the transactional nature of our workplaces and places where we can show up, not be friends with anyone, make small talk, do our jobs, and then leave is liberating. The separation of work and personal is necessary for everyone, especially for the most marginalized and oppressed among us.

But these are universal values. Most people want this separation, to some extent. Most people appreciate not having to cover their co-workers’ mishaps. Most people want a workplace culture where people do their jobs, don’t harass each other, and are on time. It’s not just white-collar professionals. It’s everyone in the workforce, no matter where they are on the socioeconomic ladder.

Why are people working at Amazon not professionals for packing, picking, and shipping our deliveries for us? Why are people who make minimum wage at McDonald’s not professionals when they work as long as most of us?

We called them essential workers during the pandemic for a reason, and society would fall apart without them.

The counterargument is professionals have skills that were learned but are we serious to say your average worker at McDonald’s or Amazon can’t learn the skill we have as part of our trades? We got lucky. We were fortunate. To some degree, we were privileged. A mentor may have stumbled upon our work and helped us. Family may have made sacrifices to help us learn skills. We all were, to some extent, afforded privileges other people were not.

Once we get into the territory of “we earned this, they didn’t,” is the moment we, particularly middle or upper-class white-collar workers, are enforcing an artificial social stratification where the world is just, where we’re above people earning less money and working lower prestige jobs because we’re better than them.

Instead of a concept as elitist as professionalism, meant to separate the workforce based on class and stratification, let’s find an alternative.