Lessons Learned from Navigating Overcrowded Classrooms and Poor Administration

Megan’s Note: I see a lot of similarities between the burnout happening with therapists and what’s happening with teachers. See if you can spot them in this guest article.

When I began teaching in Alabama three years ago, I thought I could handle whatever came my way. I had my Bachelors in Elementary Education from Washington’s best college for educators, four years of experience in the classroom, and a decade’s worth of camp, babysitting, and “church nursery” experience. 

I was prepared. Optimistic, even.

Whoops. 

It turns out that teaching in the state whose public schools rank 13th best in the country is a far cry from a state much further down the list. Don’t get me wrong; teaching anywhere in America is challenging these days. My first four years in the profession were exhausting, frustrating, and plagued by the suspicion that I could be doing anything else.

But even on my worst days, I felt I could carry on. I had the resources I needed to succeed, coworkers I could rely on, and administration who supported me.

And then I began teaching in Alabama.

Here’s what I’ve experienced.

1. The Crushing Teacher Workload

I was a sixth grade science teacher responsible for 150 students across five periods, as well as lunch supervision and small group sessions — all packed into one day with a single 53-minute planning period. Add in weekly state-mandated meetings, making copies, covering other classes, and simply using the bathroom, and each student’s work had about 10 to 15 seconds of my attention each day.

Unfortunately, mine was a pretty standard experience; 84% of teachers say there’s not enough time for lesson planning, collaborating with colleagues, and grading. 

Sacrifices have to be made. For me, time with my students often became time near my students. They worked while I looked over their work. Even then, I wasn’t able to grade most assignments given, making it nearly impossible to identify any major gaps before yearly summative assessments. 

2.  Class Sizes Are Out Of Control

My room could only safely hold 27 desks, but three of my classes had more than 30 students in them. The moment I saw those numbers, I asked my admin to move some of them to my smaller classes. That was August- it took until March for the changes to be made. 

The truth is, class sizes are one of the biggest challenges in education today. Large class sizes lead to more stress, longer working hours, and more burnout in teachers, while smaller class sizes have been shown to be better for both teachers and students. One of the more notable studies done on the topic showed both short and long-term academic benefits for students in classes of around 15.

My kids had to share desks. They sat around my small group table or pulled chairs up to counters. On rare occasions they took clipboards and sat on the ground, and sometimes — when other teachers were absent, and my class size ballooned to nearly 40 — they didn’t even get to sit inside my room.

3. Poor Leadership Can Ruin Your Year

On one of my busier days, I was juggling a handful of responsibilities when I had a run-in with my admin. I needed to make a few copies for the afternoon on the sole working copier while also corralling a group of rambunctious children, making sure they visited lockers and used the bathroom, and getting them started on a quiet activity.

Luckily, there were one or two teachers I trusted to keep an eye on things for me, so I gave my class clear instructions and stepped away to make my copies. Within minutes I was already racing back. I poked my head into the bathroom to look for middle-school boy shenanigans, and with my hands full of copies and a few students in tow I made it to my classroom as quickly as possible.

One of our administrators was waiting for me. I was anticipating a smile and a quick exchange before I dove back into the fray. At the very least, I thought they would check in to see if I needed anything.

Instead, they looked at me, said “out of control,” and walked away. 

It broke me. I had been doing my best with what little resources I had, and rather than stepping in to support me, they decided to cut me down. I learned later that they had complained about me to coworkers, just as they had complained about coworkers to me. Each time we slipped up, felt overwhelmed or started burning out, they chose to bring us down rather than lift us up.

That was the day I reached out to my union rep and began keeping a record of every interaction I had with this administrator. That was also the day I began working on my exit strategy, and it turned out I was not alone; by the end of the year, almost everyone I spoke with had resigned, with many choosing to leave the profession altogether.

How Teachers Can Protect Against Burnout

If you gave me America’s checkbook, I could fix education. Can you imagine what our schools would look like if they were funded properly? We could hire more teachers, which would shrink my class sizes. What I wouldn’t give to maneuver through my classroom without bumping into anyone, to have intentional one-on-one time with every student and grade every piece of work, and plan high-level content that meets the needs of a diverse group of students.

If we funded schools properly, each of my students would have had their own science books instead of having to share increasingly-tattered copies. We wouldn’t have run out of tissues in October, wouldn’t have had a constant pencil shortage (don’t get me started on the pencils), wouldn’t have needed to stretch overworked teachers across grades and subjects.

But schools probably aren’t going to get a sudden influx of cash. Even if they did, I still would have had problems with admin this year, as well as a dozen other issues I didn’t write about this time.

So I’m going to continue voting and advocating for schools to get the funding they need; until they do, here’s what every overworked teacher should do:

1. Maintain strong boundaries

Teaching is a job that relies upon poor work/life boundaries. We’re more likely to bring our work home with us, we’re doing work that is not compensated, and we’re spending an average of $500 to $750 of our own money per year on classroom supplies (only $300 of that is tax deductible, by the way).

Here’s an idea: give 100% during your contracted hours, and then go home and rest. Use the resources your school provides for you or apply for grants instead of spending your own money. If every teacher did this, maybe the folks in charge would finally fix the resource deficiencies we deal with every day.

Or maybe they wouldn’t; either way, you owe it to yourself to protect your peace. When your home life and work life start to overlap, the stress of the job will inevitably bleed into everything else.

2. Find your people

Some of the best moments of my day were when I went into a coworker’s room to complain or crack a joke. It was a way to maintain some sense of sanity, especially in a place and culture that was so new to me. 

It also proved to be cathartic. There was one coworker I especially trusted, and on one of my harder days I happened to turn down her hallway, make eye contact with her, and immediately burst into tears. She represented a safe space for me, a person I could go to who wouldn’t judge me.

Find someone like that at your school.

The “safe space;” one of the best smelling, calmest rooms in the building.

I’ve also found a lot of joy in connecting with the many weird students that have come through my doors. They were easy to find through my Dungeons and Dragons club, but I also looked for and encouraged students who were constantly doodling, or daydreaming, or making one too many references to anime.

And the students who needed a little extra love; if ever I leave the profession, those are the kids I’ll miss the most. My mind goes to one of my fourth graders from Washington whose odd, slightly morbid sense of humor matched my own. Her home life was a bit tumultuous, so I made sure to go above and beyond to be a safe place for her.

She just entered high school, which officially makes me Old^TM. I still get updates about her from old coworkers, and I’m already making plans to get back to Washington for her graduation in a few years.

3. Join a union

I managed to go 6 years without needing to speak to a union representative once, but this year she proved to be an invaluable resource. She was able to encourage me and give me advice on how to navigate such a stressful situation, and as the year progressed she talked me down from a few career-threatening ledges (“no, you should not say that in an email”).

Teacher unions — and unions in general — have a well-documented history of being on the side of the underdog. From advocating for higher salaries and smaller class sizes, to footing legal bills for teachers being sued, unions have helped improve teaching in a number of ways.

I never had to meet face-to-face with my union rep this year, but if things had gotten worse she would have had my back in a meeting with my admin. As a matter of fact, there were quite a few meetings she did sit in on, and I know my coworkers were happy to have her.

4. Take care of your mental health

My final piece of advice is also the one that’ll have the biggest impact on your wellbeing:

Find yourself a therapist.

I’m serious. Do it. Today, if you can.

The fact of the matter is teachers are not doing well. Burnout is high, morale is low, and while the actions I’ve outlined above will help with the stress, nothing will remove it altogether. For as many good days as you have, the bad will continue to occur. You will feel overwhelmed, stressed, and frustrated, and chances are you will feel like you should be doing anything else.

That’s where therapy comes in. It’s proven effective; a 2018 study found that “75 percent of people who receive psychotherapy saw improvements in their emotional and psychological well-being,” while teachers who participated in a pilot program that provided free in-school therapy reported a 100% success rate.

Finding a therapist was one of the best things I ever did for myself, both as a teacher and as a person. Every third Sunday I pull myself out of bed, sit at my desk in my pajamas, and discuss anything I want to. She often gives advice, but really she’s just there to listen and help me untangle the chaos of my life.

And after all, isn’t ‘someone who [actually] listens’ all a teacher could ever really ask for?