Teacher Mental Health

Mental health is a hot topic, and one that is brought up for many professions. It’s only been touched on with teachers and how we are affected. It’s more directed at teaching with compassion, trauma-informed teaching, and other areas relating to the students and how we should reach them. It isn’t so much directed at our mental health and wellbeing. And we need help too. We are always on in the classroom, and we don’t get to take breaks as other professions do. We don’t get to decompress like others. We don’t always have access to the support or understanding that is needed to function well.

Our Expectations

We have so many jobs and hats that we perform as teachers. We teach our content. We teach social skills. We teach responsibility. We are the village that holds communities together. But we don’t feel like we’re supported.

With all those hats, those late nights staying for events, prepping, and long weekends spent worrying about our lessons and our students, and if we’re doing the right thing, we don’t get to focus on ourselves. When something happens in the classroom, we must keep going. Our expectation is to power through and not show that it bothers us. Teachers must keep going regardless of what happens. If a student dies, we must keep going even if we are grieving. While we are in the classroom, we don’t get to show emotion. It’s looked down upon to cry, to be angry, to show anything that denotes humanity. And it shouldn’t be that way, more so when we are grieving. This is a problem with the way we and other views teaching.

If there is a tense exchange in the classroom, we must keep going and keep working with the student, and we don’t get to take a break to calm down. We must keep going. Keep pushing through, and it takes away from us. Or if there is an accident in the classroom, we don’t get that break to put ourselves together. We keep going and must make sure the students are ok, even when we aren’t. The saying about sacrifice is chanted like it is meant to be this badge of honor, but it shouldn’t be. There is no honor in burning yourself out. There is no honor in walking the dagger’s edge with our mental health. There is no honor in putting yourself last to the point that you age so much faster than others and become a husk of a person. There is no honor in self-sabotage.

The Reality

The reality is that we care. We care to the point that it isn’t just a job and view what we do as a calling. For many, it is, but it is still a job. And jobs are supposed to support their employees. But we don’t see that. How often do we see teachers begging for financial support to buy supplies for their classrooms? How often do we see teachers driving busted cars, wearing old clothes, living in poverty, and more? We say we need teachers, but we don’t support them. Even in the industry, we don’t always support each other. We drag each other down so that we don’t have to raise up to their level or cheer them on. We isolate. We take pride in taking on more with less. And it shouldn’t be that way. We weather the storm alone, and it eats away at us.

I brought this up because we lost a teacher at my school. I brought this up because this year is difficult as is, and losing another life because of stress, because of lack of support, perceived or actual, is hard. Districts, other teachers, and our community don’t support us like they say they do. We don’t even support ourselves because we think we can last until the next break, that glorious break where we can check-in on ourselves. But that doesn’t work. We need to do better and really look inward. We are dropping the ball, and the reality is that teaching, while usually fulfilling, is the most exacting job. We don’t get breaks like other jobs. We don’t get funding like other jobs. We’re underpaid for the jobs we do, and the additional responsibilities, and do work more than 40 hours a week WITHOUT getting paid extra. We do that because if we don’t, we’re behind and in trouble for that because our lesson is ready. Our grades aren’t in. Our other duties go unfulfilled. And it affects more than just us.

Why?

I’ve worked in many areas. I’m literally a Jack-Of-All-Trades, and I don’t understand how and why things stay this way? If we were treated this way in many jobs, we would have left or gone on strike and held out until we were paid more, give more resources and support. Instead, we’re thrown toxic positivity and told that we're the problem if we don’t meet that expectation. Instead, we’re told that having children is our choice and that our female teachers don’t get paid when they run out of their 10ish days of leave if we even get 10 days of leave. Instead, we’re told that teaching isn’t for everyone and that it takes a special person to do it. It feels like they’re telling us only masochists can become teachers because of the damage and the harm we inflict upon ourselves to do our job. And for what? A small amount of fulfillment when a few kids learn something? That we MIGHT reach a student? Honestly, we could do more of that with proper support. We could do more if people, specifically parents, took some responsibility for themselves and their children and stepped back to realize that this is a job, and we do make mistakes, and it’s ok. We’re expected to do that for their child but aren’t give the same in return.

Closing

I’m mad. I’m mad that we are viewed as childcare. I’m mad that I almost didn’t get a raise this year because my state was considering cutting our education budget by 20% and only stopped because teachers threatened to strike. I’m mad that we must sacrifice ourselves to work for you. I’m mad that I’m teaching online and in-person during a pandemic, and more of my colleagues and students are getting sick. But most of all, I’m mad that our mental health is taken for granted because we are supported in a field that needs functioning adults. We need to do more for our teachers, and our mental health should be the first place we start.