I’m Experiencing Burnout

Halfway through Term 3 of 2022, I faced a situation I had never encountered before as an educator. I glanced at my current class and then at the upcoming class for 2023 and thought, “I can’t continue this anymore.”

While this may seem trivial, it marked the first time in fifteen years of teaching that I felt this way. Regardless of the challenges or stress of the school year, I had always believed that with summer break, I would recharge and gather new strategies to tackle whatever came next. Yet, here I was, with 75% of the year behind me, recognizing that I lacked the energy to embark on a sixteenth year.

I was burnt out, and it took a visit to my doctor, who prescribed eight weeks of medical leave and anti-depressants, before I understood the extent of my exhaustion. It wasn’t only about my inability to face 2023; I was struggling to finish 2022. I hadn’t been sleeping well for months, often experienced shaking, and believed that the solution to my problems was simply to work harder, convinced that this would bring everything back to normal. But that wasn’t the reality—I was in a state of crisis.

The first two weeks of my leave were filled with fear. Every sound outside my home, like a door slamming or a car pulling up, made me think someone would come and tell me to stop being foolish and return to work. I felt ashamed for leaving my students, worried about others' opinions, and anxious about being seen outside during school hours. I was mentally unwell and had disguised it by becoming a workaholic, which ultimately wasn’t sustainable.

I want to highlight that my colleagues at my last school are outstanding educators who supported me through my burnout. They are dedicated professionals committed to teaching, even amid extreme stress, heightened by the COVID-19 pandemic. This experience wasn’t isolated to a single workplace or a sudden revelation; it was a gradual decline, a slow erosion of my well-being over the past five years, culminating in complete exhaustion.

Currently, there is much discussion regarding teacher salaries, especially with ongoing strikes. I was earning a competitive salary for a full-time position, but teaching is not confined to a 36-hour workweek. The reality involves evenings, weekends, and even holidays.

Holidays, when teaching children isn’t the primary focus, often become a time for catch-up. It’s when we update lesson plans, grade assessments, collect data, read professional materials, organize classrooms, and create new educational strategies. We also research medical or psychological issues that students may face, hoping to find solutions for those who struggle. This extensive list of responsibilities cannot be accomplished during standard school hours, as our primary duty is to teach and ensure the safety and well-being of our students.

Safety and Well-Being

We must also prioritize our own safety and well-being. My first experience of being struck by a thrown chair occurred during my teacher training. The principal later informed me that the same student had once bitten her hard enough to draw blood through her jacket. This was many years ago, in another country. I consider myself relatively fortunate, but over the past five years, I have faced various forms of violence from students, including punches, near misses from projectiles, and even panic attacks in response. I’ve faced spitting, scratching, and verbal abuse countless times. Is this considered part of the job?

Most students exhibiting these behaviors require help, often stemming from trauma, neglect, or unmet special needs within our education system. Every teacher is aware of the inadequacies in funding for special needs education and how our support staff are overburdened.

You can find yourself responsible for a student with high needs requiring constant one-on-one support—yet funding for such assistance is rarely provided. One professional once jokingly stated that a student would need to be in an iron lung to qualify for full-time funding. So, here you are, managing a classroom of 20+ students while fulfilling this demanding role. Does that sound overwhelming? Now, imagine having two or three such students in your class—this is the reality many teachers in New Zealand face today.

Nevertheless, as a passionate educator, you strive to do your best. But this often means investing extra time to ensure those students receive basic care and safety, detracting from the attention you can give the rest of your class. Eventually, you find yourself calculating how much teaching can occur alongside behavior management, feeling relief when certain students are absent, allowing you to deliver planned lessons.

Yet, this leads to guilt. You know your responsibility is to care for and educate all students, yet you find yourself wishing for absences just to focus on delivering effective lessons to the remaining students. You can’t help but wonder:

Will I have to evacuate the classroom if a student becomes disruptive? How much time will I waste trying to coax students back into the classroom? How much extra paperwork will I need to file to explain why classroom materials are damaged? Am I at risk of physical harm today? What if I can’t fulfill my duties?

You’re doing your best, yet it feels inadequate. So, you push yourself harder, but the reality is that the previous five paragraphs reflect how the urgent need for student support often overshadows actual teaching. This constant struggle can erode your passion and ability to continue in the profession.

Teaching Responsibilities

Returning to the subject of teaching, you meticulously plan lessons based on available data, assessments, and school guidelines. With a class of 25 students, you must meet their individual educational targets in reading, writing, and mathematics—an achievable task with the right resources. Yet, as a creative educator, you often seek out additional materials, even subscribing to paid resource sites to enhance your lessons.

However, your students may not be where you expect them to be in terms of learning progress. One student might need glasses, another may struggle with writing, and you may have to figure this out yourself, as the Ministry of Education staff, despite their brilliance, are often overwhelmed. Additionally, there’s a student with 30% attendance who displays immense potential, but their absence hinders their growth. Thus, you must conduct quick assessments to justify your teaching approach.

You often work with small groups to focus on their needs, and things can go smoothly. However, if you spend extra time with one group to ensure their understanding, you may run out of time to assist others. You are then faced with a dilemma: shorten the next session, which may hinder their learning, or compromise the current lesson. You must negotiate with yourself to determine which is more critical, knowing that something must give.

Suddenly, you’re informed that external sports groups will visit that day. This forces you to either cancel your math lesson or attempt to teach it during the afternoon when students are less focused. The school day, originally open from 9 to 3, becomes strained and pressured, yet you still strive to make every minute count for students who can’t afford to miss any learning opportunities. You find yourself constantly adjusting your plans, ensuring each student receives sufficient attention to meet their educational needs.

At the end of the day, as you reflect on the tasks accomplished, you question whether you have done enough. If not, you absorb that disappointment. You realize that a group of students who seemed ready to tackle their independent work may not have understood the instructions. You jot down a note to revisit that group tomorrow, pour yourself a cup of instant coffee, and let your mind wander.

Combining these pressures—managing behavior and fulfilling educational objectives—creates a daunting challenge. Devoting time to one aspect means diverting attention from the other, leading to a continuous cycle of feeling like your best efforts fall short. This struggle takes a toll on your passion, enthusiasm, and mental capacity to continue teaching.

The Reality of Teaching

Every teacher has heard parents express, “I could never do your job.” In our profession, teachers often share this sentiment across grade levels. Secondary teachers can’t fathom primary teaching, primary teachers dread the teenage years, and we all have immense respect for early childhood educators, who face significant challenges while being undervalued and underpaid. I, too, find myself saying, “I can’t do your job.”

I can no longer endure the constant negotiation of how to support students both socially and emotionally while also meeting their academic needs. I cannot continue to work harder to bridge the gap between what the Ministry of Education provides and what is expected in terms of results, nor can I accept the feeling of failure towards my students while exhausting myself in the process.

This year, I’ve transitioned to being a reliever. I go into schools, teach, and leave without the burden of ongoing responsibilities. I build relationships with classes I teach repeatedly but return home free of the emotional weight and guilt associated with being a full-time teacher. I pursue a full-time postgraduate communications program while stepping away from teaching, and while I will miss the classroom, I won’t miss the current state of the profession in Aotearoa New Zealand.

This narrative reflects my experience and does not represent every educator’s perspective, but I believe many will resonate with these feelings.

Final Thoughts

Teaching is incredibly demanding. As a mentor for teaching students in the UK and Aotearoa New Zealand, I often posed a simple question:

“So, what motivates you to become a teacher?”

Those who expressed a desire to help students, inspired by positive teaching experiences, or passionate about a subject tended to excel in the profession. Conversely, those focused on holidays, pay, or external pressures struggled.

Our education system is under immense strain, impacting management who are overwhelmed and unable to find sufficient staff, particularly in the wake of COVID-19. The consequences trickle down to teachers and ultimately affect student education.

It’s important to note that I have rarely encountered a poor teacher. The vast majority of educators are dedicated, passionate, and work tirelessly to exceed their contractual obligations, ensuring the safety and well-being of their students. They often spend their own money on resources and food for their students, going above and beyond to fulfill their roles.

No one enters the teaching profession for the financial rewards, but they also shouldn’t be expected to sacrifice their well-being to achieve the unachievable. Teachers perform remarkable feats daily, and it is time for the government to recognize their efforts and listen to their needs. Ultimately, this will enhance the educational experience for students.

The working conditions of teachers directly correlate with the educational conditions of students. Support the striking educators today.