3 steps to free yourself from teacher-guilt
Teachers, we have a problem. A problem that goes beyond toxic administrators, angry parents, and unengaged or disrespectful students. A problem that impacts us every day, whether we are sleeping, eating, grading, or spending time with our families.
That problem, my friends, is the teacher guilt in our own minds. It is our minds telling us that we are responsible in some way for the failure of education. That we should somehow be able to save the world single-handedly, and if we can’t, then it is our fault.
I am not saying that we have created the guilty feelings. On the contrary, our profession has been devalued for so long, it is hard to imagine how our minds would not have soaked up the pervasive messaging. The message that teachers owe our lives to kids, schools, and the profession of teaching.
But that doesn’t change the fact that we, as a group, take way too much on ourselves and cut ourselves far too little slack when we are, well, human.
Do you suffer from teacher guilt?
Do any of these messages ring a bell?
“Teachers aren’t in it for the income. They’re in it for the outcome.”
“Teacher of the year”
“Teaching is a calling.”
“The kids need you.”
“You can’t quit! You are such a GREAT teacher!”
How about the message that teachers who work more hours are better or more worthy than teachers who leave at the bell?
The idea that teachers who take too many sick days should be punished or shamed?
If you have seen any of these, or even thought or shared the meme yourself, you might suffer from teacher guilt.
How can I reduce teacher guilt?
What we have here, folks, is a textbook toxic environment, and the first step in fighting back against a toxic environment is reclaiming our own minds.
As I am sure you are aware, this isn’t going to be easy. It is going to come with discomfort, perhaps grief, and even shame because for so long, we have prided ourselves on being a “good” teacher. Even a “great” teacher. Some days, even an “outstanding” teacher.
And that was one thing 30 years ago, when teaching – although difficult – was actually possible for a mere mortal to accomplish with a modicum of work/life balance.
But that is no longer the case, as most teachers will attest. We are expected to plan standards-based lessons, differentiate for student needs, build a welcoming social environment, monitor bullying, assess student learning, re-teach as necessary, input grades in a timely manner, communicate with parents regarding academic progress, document and notify parents about behavior issues, notify child protective services if we suspect abuse, administer state-mandated testing, and oh yeah (I almost forgot!) ACTUALLY TEACH THE FREAKING LESSON!!!
And that is if you are NOT a special ed teacher who also has a bundle of IEPs slung over her back that makes Santa’s pack look like a clutch handbag! (Shout out to y’all! You are ah-MAZ-ing!
Whew! I’m tired just typing all that crap, and teachers are expected to do it every day, five days a week. For as many as 180 students (500+ for PE, Art, Music, and other specials teachers!).
Here is the point. It is not possible. It’s not. They (whoever “they” is) are expecting too much of us, as a profession.
So you need to take care of yourself. And now I am begging you. At this point, teaching can literally kill you if you take it too seriously. Any idea of how many teachers are on anti-anxiety meds? How many are going to the ER with chest pains due to stress? How many are – for the first time ever – struggling with high blood pressure? Hint: It’s a LOT!
So how can you fight back against teacher guilt? Here are some suggestions.
1) Control your mind.
We are often our own worst enemies, and say things within our own minds that we would never say to anyone else. Start by noticing when you tell yourself something you wouldn’t say to your best friend or to one of your students. Then replace it with a positive.
For example, if you think “I’ve been a teacher for so long. There is nothing else I can do!” Stop! Catch that thought and replace it with a more positive one, such as , “I’ve built a lot of people skills being a teacher,” or “I learned to be a great teacher. I can learn to do other things, too.”
If you need help getting started on a positive mantra, click here for a list of 26 teaching positive mantras for transitioning teachers.
2) Give yourself permission to be Average. Every day.
First, let’s define “average.” Average means neither good nor bad, but in the middle.
To me, average teaching means that you are still a caring and involved teacher with a plan. BUT you plan your lessons and assessments based as much on ease of preparation and grading as you do on any other factor. If it is humanly possible, you spend some class time grading while the kids work silently. You provide feedback in the most efficient way possible. (Think peer editing and self-reflection whenever possible.) And if something doesn’t get done in the time you have allotted, then it doesn’t get done.
It might mean that you grade fewer papers, or that your lessons are less interactive, or that the kids research and do short presentation on a list of topics instead of you giving notes.
It will probably mean that your lessons aren’t rave-worthy, but in 2022, it’s more about surviving than having a home-run lesson every day.
average gets a bad rap.
Seriously. No one wants to be “average” but the truth is we are all average (or even below) at SOME things. So choose what you want to be average at. And if you have spent 15 years being an amazing teacher, 1) it will be hard to really be only “average” 2) your definition of “average” is probably NOT actually average 3) isn’t it time to be amazing at something else, like taking care of yourself?
Even within teaching, choose what you want to be outstanding at and give yourself permission to be average at other things. My classroom decorations were definitely average. (Or below!) But my relationships and level of trust with students were outstanding. And I was cool with that. It was a conscious choice as to where I wanted my limited energy and time to go.
3) Draw boundaries in baby steps
Healthy boundaries SO hard for many of us teachers. We like to get along with our co-workers and supervisors, and we fear “causing trouble”. But setting boundaries is actually an important skill for a balanced and healthy life.
You are not going to be able to suddenly feel comfortable setting boundaries if you haven’t been setting professional boundaries for years. However, you can build up your boundary-setting muscles by picking 1 (maybe 2) areas of focus.
For example, let’s say you have a habit of going to school even when you feel really rotten. Or you say yes to far too many committees, even ones that don’t interest you. Or you spend weekends grading papers instead of relaxing.
Any of those is a great place to start, but tackling all of them at once is going to be hard to maintain without overwhelming guilt. So instead of trying to deal with all of them at ones, pick just a couple. And then really focus on implementing those and pushing back against any feelings of guilt they might cause.
Whichever boundary you choose, realize that setting boundaries is a skill, and just like any skill, it takes practice. If you cross the boundary, don’t give yourself another guilt trip about THAT. Just tell yourself what you would tell a student about learning a new skill, and get right back at it.
Bonus: Celebrate small victories
For years, teachers have been gaslit by society expecting us to solve literally. every. problem. Poverty. Racism. Bullying. The achievement gap. Falling test scores. Uninvolved parents. Childhood Trauma. You name it.
Now, I’m not saying that those issues aren’t worth solving, but I am saying that when one segment of society has been blamed for NOT solving every problem, it plays a bit on your mind. And you start feeling guilty for being unable to do the impossible. So whenever you take a little step without guilt or you push back in your own mind against those guilty feelings. Acknowledge the step you have taken. Even if it is tiny.
Because you’ve got this.
All the best, Jill