I want to write about a topic that really is settling into my head lately, but I am finding it really difficult to put into words. I worry about coming across as not caring or just less in some way. There are so many thoughts swirling and I cannot seem to put them together into a coherent message. But I am going to try to at least start my thought process here.
First, I read an article about teachers and PTSD a couple years ago. I searched for it, thinking there would not be many hits and I would find it easily. I was wrong. No wonder the article resonated with me. It seems that the phrase “teachers and PTSD” is quite common. And there are a number of articles out there.
That is heartbreaking.
The reason I remember this particular article is because it resonated through me in a huge way. I was a couple years past my most difficult year of teaching and I felt like I had almost every symptom of what they were talking about. Leaving my school after that year was supposed to rejuvenate me, but I just stepped out of the frying pan and into the fire.
I spent a couple years hating myself because as much as I really wanted to provide the same loving and nurturing environment in which I knew I was doing everything possible to help each student grow, I knew I was not doing my absolute best. I didn’t have it in me anymore. Some kind of spark that I had before had just gone out. (This was helped along by the way the principal at my new school chose to give feedback-I was completely demoralized)
The article talked about how teachers who are suffering from PTSD have a more difficult time forming relationships with their students. They still were friendly, but there was a layer of protection that a teacher in this state put up around their hearts. Yep. That was me.
Don’t get me wrong, I did still provide a really great classroom experience for my students. They saw an upbeat, friendly and caring teacher every day. I lesson planned and worked just as hard to provide the supports and educational opportunities for my students as I had before.
But, I just didn’t feel the same and my classroom did not feel the same.
It really started for me with that year full of supporting students who had deeper needs than what I could help with. I won’t go into all the details, but It was emotionally draining and I had little help. The solutions all seemed to come back to what else I could try. Ideas centered around what I was doing or not doing. The support systems in the school focused completely on the needs of the students, as they should. But somewhere in there, the system seemed to forget that I was a human being. There is only so much that a person can take. Being a teacher should not cause one to have a nervous breakdown. In that year, I shouldered the burden of the trauma of my students and almost lost my sanity. Is it any wonder that I struggled to find my footing again?
There have been a few people who have written more eloquently than I ever could about the need for teachers to stop being martyrs. I used to wear it as a badge of honor that I hardly ever took sick days. That I worked all hours of the week and my entire weekend. And I never stopped thinking about school. And that my identity was wrapped up in the fact that I was a teacher.
Now, I understand that I need to have boundaries and that this is a career not my entire life’s worth.
What I know is that we need to honor teachers right to be human beings who have lives. We need to stop running teachers into the ground. And the system needs to understand that teachers are emotional beings also. Yes, we are the adult, but that doesn’t mean we can just suppress all our emotions. Let’s not cause more teachers to suffer from PTSD because of work-related stress.
Here is an article about Secondary Traumatic Stress, which can cause PTSD symptoms. I think it must have been an article such as this one which I read.
This post is a part of the 14th annual Slice of Life Story Challenge. After a few years away, I am challenging myself to write every day in March this year, along with an amazing community of other bloggers. You can find our writing linked up on the Two Writing Teachers blog.
Thank you for your honesty and for sharing your story. I believe that teachers should do all they can to help a student learn, but you are correct about boundaries. At what point is it not the teacher’s fault that a student is not succeeding or behaving the way they should in our classroom? How much abuse should a teacher take? Every year it seems like it is the luck of the draw if you have challenging students and parents. It determines if you will be the recipient of abuse for 9 months or it will be smooth sailing. It’s nerve-racking. My best wishes to you. Stay strong.
Thank you for being vulnerable and sharing this. I think so many teachers will benefit from reading and knowing they are not alone.
Andrea, when It comes to this group, comprised of mostly educators, I am an outsider. But, as you know, way before the pandemic struck teacher have been treated unfairly and I’m surprised PTSD wasn’t a more frequent occurrence even then. Whether it’s spending your own wages (which you have to fight for too often) on school supplies, or certain parents not contributing on the home front, leaving the entire process up to you. Or, does my student(s) have enough food, resources, support to be functional? And, now that Covid hit, you took the distinct role of babysitter to a whole new level in the eyes of some. Teachers hardly receive the support they should have, let alone deserve, and it is a shame. Just know that by you setting boundaries for yourself, to maintain and improve your self-care is a must. If you don’t take care of yourself, you cannot put your best efforts forth.
Best wishes to you, my warrior friend!
I am so glad you shared this. Too often, I also felt I “lost my sparkle” and still worked so hard. To top it off, getting professional development on resiliency makes it seem as if we still have to take the hits. There are ways to be supportive of educators and making it okay to give lots of breathing room, but sadly, it doesn’t happen enough. I hope you have a safe space to air your frustrations (it’s important to vent and I totally don’t see it as complaining) and that you have a supportive environment. This was one of the main reasons I left the classroom, but there are times I do miss having my own class.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I am glad that I am not alone.
Thank you for being vulnerable. It’s absolutely real. I can attest to it. Tonight, I am so tired I don’t even have words to express how much.
I appreciate this.
It is so hard as a teacher to not get swallowed whole by the profession–the demands, the challenges, the hopes and dreams, the pressures from those outside the school system. You have written about it so compassionately and honestly. Blessings to you.