Why have teachers disappeared from education, and why might we want them back? This chapter addresses the curious phenomenon of teacher embarrassment about teaching itself, tracing how progressive critiques of authoritarian transmission have led to widespread ‘didactophobia’. Rather than defending traditional teaching or embracing student-centred alternatives, Biesta articulates a third possibility: teaching as an interruptive gift. Drawing on Klaus Prange’s concept of ‘Zeigen’ (pointing), he reconceptualises teaching as the art of redirecting attention, not toward the teacher but toward the world. This seemingly simple gesture contains profound complexity: teachers cannot force students to attend to what they indicate, yet without such indication, students cannot voluntarily notice what they don’t know exists. The chapter then explores teaching’s fundamental asymmetry through analogy with artistic creation, where artists intend effects without enforcing responses. This leads to a startling conclusion: teachers must keep their deepest intentions secret, even the fact that they have secrets, to preserve space for genuine student response. It means that for Biesta, teaching identity emerges as sporadic and relational, teachers only become teachers when students acknowledge having been taught something they couldn’t learn alone. This raises the question of whether educators can accept that their most profound professional work occurs beyond their complete understanding or control. It is an uncertainty which, Biesta contends, rather than undermining professional confidence, actually creates space for authentic educational encounters.