Today, I cried on my way home from work.
Actually, I sobbed.
And if I’m being completely honest, I think I just hit a wall.
I am overwhelmed.
Not because I don’t care.
Not because I don’t want to teach.
Not because my students are awful.
I’m overwhelmed because everyone needs something from me. All. The. Time.
I have 19 students.
Nineteen little people who need me to teach them, redirect them, answer their questions, solve their problems, differentiate for them, help them understand the assignment, manage their behavior, make sure they’re safe, check their work, give them feedback, keep them on task, and somehow still get through everything I’m supposed to teach that day.
And then the phone rings.
Again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
I swear I heard RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RING today.
Someone always needed me.
I’d finally get everyone settled.
I’d finally get a few minutes where it felt like I could actually teach.
Then….
RING RING RING.
So I would run over to the phone.
And, of course, I’d miss it.
Then they’d call again.
Because apparently whatever was happening on the other end of that phone could not wait.
Meanwhile, I have 19 third graders sitting in front of me.
And I don’t mean that as a complaint about my students.
I mean that I am one person.
One person trying to teach 19 kids while simultaneously answering the phone, responding to interruptions, handling behavior, differentiating instruction, looking at test scores, keeping track of who needs what, and trying to make sure nobody falls through the cracks.
And today, one of my students got punched in the face at recess.
I didn’t even find out until the end of the day.
And now I have a million questions running through my head.
What happened? Is my student okay? Was the other child’s parent notified? What are the consequences? Is there something I’m supposed to do? Do I need to talk to the parent? Do I need to schedule a meeting? Does someone already know all of this?
Am I supposed to know all of this?
WHY DOESN’T ANYONE SAY ANYTHING?
That’s what gets me.
I’m responsible for these kids all day, but sometimes I feel like I’m finding out about things after the fact and then expected to somehow know what to do next. And while all of this is happening, I’m also trying to teach.
Except a lesson that should take maybe 20 or 30 minutes can take me 60 or 70 minutes.
Not because I don’t know the material. Not because I can’t teach it. Because distractions and disruptions happen all day, every day.
Someone needs help. Someone is talking. Someone is out of their seat. The phone rings. Someone needs clarification. Someone is upset. Someone didn’t bring something. Someone needs to go somewhere. Someone needs something from me. And suddenly the 30-minute lesson has turned into an hour.
And I’m sitting there thinking:
When am I actually supposed to teach the content?
Because that’s what I’m there to do. I want to teach. I want to explain things. I want to give my students the time and attention they deserve. But sometimes I feel like I’m spending more time managing everything around the teaching than I am actually teaching. And then, just when I think I might have a handle on the day, something else gets added.
Today, two more things were thrown at us. And essentially the message was:
Hey! You need to incorporate these, too!
Okay.
When?
When am I supposed to do that?
My schedule is already booked.
My day is already full.
I’m already trying to get through what I’m already required to teach.
And now two more things need to magically fit into a schedule where I barely have enough time to get through what was already there.
And one of those things is word origins.
For third graders. And I’m sitting here thinking… Most of my students are still working on basic phonics rules. They’re still figuring out how words work. They’re still learning how to read fluently. So I’m supposed to find time to teach them the Latin origin of a word?
How does that work?
I’m not saying word origins are inherently bad. I’m saying that sometimes I genuinely don’t understand how I’m supposed to prioritize everything. If a child is struggling to read the word in front of them, do they really need to know its Latin descent right now?
Maybe I’m missing something. Maybe there’s a bigger picture I’m not seeing. But today, sitting in my classroom, already overwhelmed and already trying to fit 700 things into a school day, I couldn’t stop thinking: What are we doing?
Because I want to do a good job. I really do. I care about my students. I care about their education. I care about whether they are safe. I care about whether they’re learning. I care about whether they feel loved and supported in my classroom.
And maybe that’s why today felt so heavy. Because I am trying. I’m trying really, really hard. But there is only one of me. And sometimes it feels like everyone wants a piece of me at the exact same time.
The students need me.
The phone needs me.
Administration needs me.
The curriculum needs me.
The test scores need me.
The parents need me.
The schedule needs me.
The new initiatives need me.
And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I’m supposed to find enough of myself to actually teach.
Today, I didn’t feel like I had enough.
So I cried.
I cried because I was overwhelmed. I cried because I was frustrated. I cried because I feel like I’m constantly trying to catch up to a list that never ends. I cried because I don’t want to spend my entire day putting out fires when what I really want to do is teach my kids. And I cried because I am tired of feeling like there is always one more thing.
Maybe tomorrow will be different.
Maybe it won’t.
But tonight, I don’t need to pretend that today was okay.
Today was a lot.
And today, I was overwhelmed.
That’s the truth.
-AG
Leave a comment