Yes, this is a rant. To quote Bette Davis: ‘Fasten your seat belts, it’s going to be a bumpy night.’
Teacher burnout peaks at this time of year. Just as Post Academic started its series on job burnout, posting a helpful quiz, Renée over at Teachers and Twits posted about possibly quitting the classroom (not necessarily for good). What Renée bravely put out there was something I’ve heard countless times: the lament of a caring teacher who is simply exhausted.
Here’s what’s ticking me off: anyone who told her to stay because the system/kids/world NEEDS teachers like her.
Grrr.
(WoPro pauses for a moment and wills her adamantine knives to withdraw.)
I’ve heard this countless times, too, and I’m sure it’s well-intentioned. In the eyes of those who believe teaching is a vocation, a good teacher who mentions leaving must be having a moment of self-doubt. And I’m sure that Renée is a great teacher. But, importantly, leaving or taking a break wouldn’t make her a bad teacher. It’s a matter of self-preservation, not self-doubt.
‘But I need you’ is how you coerce someone to stay in a bad relationship. ‘This company needs you’ is a corporate technique for cajoling employees, making them feel valuable without actually paying them for their value. It’s guilt-inducing and flat-out manipulative.
No one should stay at a bad job because it needs them. Ever. And feeling that an inanimate institution ‘needs’ you is co-dependent and possibly pathological.
A classroom has people, and yes, you may feel they need you. But it’s still a freaking job. Not your family. Not a spouse. Not a child, or pet, or aged parent — these beings might actually need you later in the day, so I’d save up that psychic energy.
Especially if you want other things from life. The burnout test asked whether you felt your job was preventing you from fulfilling your potential, and I immediately thought, Well hell, teaching is the sort of thing that could keep ANYONE from fulfilling their potential. This is why I told Renée that if she plans to finish writing her book, leaving the classroom — at least for a while — sounds like a good idea.
Now I’m wondering if this is what’s behind the ‘those who can’t do…’ adage: teachers can’t fulfill their own potential because they’re giving too damned much to the students.
Oh, and please please please don’t start with the idea that those rare, wonderful moments of teacher-student interaction make it all worthwhile. In the comments on Renée’s post, a certain Steve correctly identified this as the ‘expected PC response’ but (also correctly) labeled it as disingenuous. Thank you, Steve, for being honest so I don’t have to.
I don’t care how many times you’ve seen Stand and Deliver, imploring an unhappy-but-good teacher to stay is selfish. As is asking people to keep doing a thankless, draining job for the sake of .05%, or even 10% of their students — that’s just not a cost-effective way to run (0r ruin?) your life.
SO STOP WITH THE ‘NEEDS’ SHENANIGANS, PEOPLE. It’s passive-aggressive, guilt-inducing BS, and anyone who does it should be sentenced to five years’ hard labor in front of apathetic, texting students. Just admit that teaching is $#@! exhausting, already, and stop trying to bully people into feeling bad if they want something more from life.
More and more, I think teaching is a job you can’t reasonably expect anyone to do for more than ten years, at least if you want them to do it well. The general consensus? Today’s students may as well have been raised by wild dogs, and it’s become a teacher’s job to ‘fix’ them, making them into semi-functional members of society. I don’t think that’s feasible anyway, but if it’s really what you’re asking teachers to do, you cannot possibly expect them to do it for life.
I understand the desire to make a difference, I really do. But education alone can’t fill the never-ending void of bad parenting or poverty or whatever else is making the classrooms of America so awful these days. And you, the individual teacher, won’t solve the problem by exhausting yourself to the point of total burnout.
Now, everybody gets to make their own decisions on how to deal with burnout. Post Academic (which I now think of as a wise, older sister) has already started with some helpful tips on what to do, and it doesn’t have to be quitting. But if that is the decision a teacher makes, the last thing they need is a guilt trip. Let them go, wish them luck (sincerely!), and tell then they’re welcome back any time. They may well return. If they don’t, just be happy that they’re doing for themselves what they’ve helped students to do all along: fulfill their potential.
I’ve got a colleague who has written an academic paper on exactly this subject.
And he’s right, as are you.
I’m glad to hear this is being discussed in proper academic terms. I think these things need be said about a million times, a million different ways, before anyone pays attention.
Oh, don’t get me started on the “those who can’t do … ” adage. That just drives the self-esteem of a teacher down even lower, which encourages them to stay in the job because they think they can’t do anything else. Then these teachers get stuck being the parent or the babysitter while others are out doing what they want to do.
PS–Thank you for the compliment for Post Academic!
PPS–Keep using the word “shenanigans.” Preferably in all caps.
Yes, I agree wholeheartedly. And you’ve earned the compliment — your blog is definitely a fount of sensible advice. Unlike this one, which is more about the ranting
I’ll work on the SHENANIGANS campaign.
Well said: ” ‘But I need you’ is how you coerce someone to stay in a bad relationship.” Why is it that for so many of us teaching turns into the workplace equivalent of a bad romance (or any kind of romance — it’s a job!)? I love the scene at the end of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” video. Sums up the feeling of burnout so well, at least for me, especially since there’s nothing left for her to do but move on.
Funnily enough, one of my friends described my stint in academia as a failed marriage. And yes, the Bad Romance model is exactly right for burnout. Let’s hope we can recover as fabulously as the Gaga!
Hey I’m new around here. Am I detecting some animosity against academia?
On the one hand I understand the importance of good teachers. On the other hand, higher ed just won’t always be worth it for everyone. I like what I do for now. My burnout score was still higher than I thought but that mostly had to do with how I feel towards administration. The whole idea from my position is that I’m treated like I’m not needed. I am interchangeable as far as the powers that be are concerned. I have some colleagues who appreciate me and a lot of students who love me. If that’s not enough then I need to move on.
In the meantime, there’s also the factor that some folks just want to do other stuff. I get that too. That might very well be me someday.
I dunno, I think this one covers secondary and higher education; in both arenas there are serious problems with guilting teachers. And I like the burnout test because it allows you to pinpoint problem areas, then find constructive solutions based on individual situations — if it’s working for you, then fine. If not, then change something.
I agree that it sucks when people tell you you’re dispensable, and that this is all too common (and another major factor in job dissatisfaction) in admin. But if the Powers That Be truly value your performance, they should just say it constructively rather than couching it in needy terms designed to wring more work out of you.
If you’re indispensable, they should Pay You More.
Speaking as “The One Who Is Contemplating Quitting the Classroom.” (It’s a little like He Who Shall Not Be Named), I understand where people are coming from. The students who like us want to keep us around. They have connected with us; they don’t want to see us go. I understand that they are young and they don’t understand any of the additional pressures of the wonderful world of teaching.
As for me, I know it is my time to take a break — as someone likened teaching to a “Bad Romance” (a la Lady Gaga’s song), I have to agree. But the romance can return. I just have to pursue some other things and — hopefully — my position will be there for me when/if I decide to return. Hell, if I’m as good as everyone keeps telling me I am, I should be employable, right?
I agree that the students and former students really do mean well. But if we’re talking parents and administrators, who also use the ‘need’ argument, I’m a lot less forgiving. These are grownups who should know better. Best of luck with your future endeavors! And yes, I’d hire you. I just to get in a position of authority somewhere…
Note: Our new kitten is all over this keyboard. Typing is suddenly really hard. Lots of errors above. I apologize. Wow. Maybe the kitten along is a good enough reason to take a break.
I mean, how would I get anything done? 
Awwwww, kitten! My ‘kitten’ is ten years old but she’s still super cute.
i go to vanderbilt and now i’m scared… why did you leave??
I don’t think you should be scared if you’re a student. I left for a lot of reasons; Vandy’s insane expectations of faculty (while no more insane than many universities) were only part of it. The good news is that the people teaching there do care about the students, it’s just that they’re being pulled in about a million different directions. The students were driven, too, but that was self-imposed, not any sort of requirement.
So you shouldn’t worry; I left when I felt like I was too burned out to care, but the people I know there are trying their best.
I started reading your blog about a week ago and I think it’s great. I left academia two years ago — well, that’s when I made the decision to leave, then had a whole term of teaching to get through before actually finishing my contract. Interestingly, I never go the ‘needs’ discourse, but I did get the ‘but you’re good at it’ speech. I taught as a sessional lecturer for three years, looking for the ever elusive tenure-track job, got tired of the whole thing despite “those wonderful moments of teacher-student interaction” mentioned in your post and decided to leave before becoming bitter. Apparently, doing something you’re good at is supposed to automatically make you happy. I guess I used to think that way and that’s how I ended up doing a Ph.D. I’ve come to realize that doing what makes you happy is more important and chances are you’ll get good at it anyway. If only what made me happy actually paid well
Thanks, and thanks for sharing your own story — the more people talk about their experiences the better! It is interesting how people assume that if you’re good at something, you must love it. Some days I think that high-achieving types can probably be good (i.e. competent++) at anything, so that’s not really the question. The question is how to find a life that makes them happy in its overall balance!
[...] post fits nicely with a recent post from Worst Prof Ever about how employers use “feeling needed” to pay women less (whereas in a rational [...]
If I had more than two brain cells left to crack together like tiny flints, I’d leave a more intelligent response…but thank you. I teach seventh and eighth grade Art to border kids– 99% of our kids are impoverished– and in order for our district to pretend to try to meet AYP , I’m teaching math, vocabulary, writing to a rubric, and forcing even the non-readers to read. I just finished the semester a full two and a half weeks behind in my art curriculum. Incidentally, I’m known for my ability to ‘reach’ the thugs, outcasts, and troublemakers, some of whom consider me an adoptive parent. Many of us fill this void at my school, and I’m fortunate to work with some highly intelligent, well-educated, and innovative teachers. Still, our local newspaper and the community at large love to flat-out bash us any chance they get. The state has frozen our wages indefinitely, we have the threat of being taken over by a corporation looming over us, and there’s talk of maxing out the classrooms at 35 per. We get that “you’re here because you care” stuff at all of our Professional Development Team meetings; as the rabble-rouser and one who won’t drink the kool-aid, they’ve had to talk me down on more than one occasion. I’m planning my exodus for 3 semesters from now. I think I need a hug. (*rocks back and forth weeping*)
Sister Morpheme, I love it! And you’re very welcome! Seventh and eighth grade?? I seriously couldn’t hack it, and I really respect anyone who can. It sounds like you’re another one of those great teachers who just needs a freakin’ break; it doesn’t matter how much the kids need you because there will always be more — and yeah, why is media and community so intent on blaming teachers for everything? That just sucks.
Best of luck in your transition and Godspeed in saving your sanity and soul. If you were here I’d totally give you a hug!
Hmm. I feel bad, now, about all the times I’ve told former teachers that I wished they’d stay. I guess it’s hard for me to imagine being that good at something without enjoying it. Moreover, on some level, it’s hard to accept that teachers/professors are miserable in their jobs because part of their job, at least, is dealing with my friends and me. I’d hate to think I was making anyone’s life hell, but it would be especially awful to think I was making someone unhappy whom I liked and respected – and in some cases, with whom I’d come as close as professionally appropriate to being friends.
Which, you’d think, would make me want to encourage professors who hate their jobs to quit. And it does, on the logical level. But I know I want to believe that these relationships are mutual – that my favorite professors enjoy teaching their classes and having us as students as much as I enjoy taking their classes and having them as professors. Finding out that a professor is miserable in her job makes me feel that I’ve done something to hurt someone else, and as a (I’d like to think) generally decent person, that makes me feel like crap. So, yes, it’s selfish, in a way, but I don’t think it comes entirely from a bad place – just the desire to believe that someone is happy.
It’s a nice thought, true, but definitely worth checking out the reality, if you can anyone to admit it (they often won’t because they too feel the pressure to ‘be happy’ even when they’re not). I’m sure you, personally, were not making anyone’s life miserable. It’s really more a problem of the untenable combination of demands being placed on any given educator.
Hey,
I’m still teaching, as a Lecturer now, but I want out! I’m in the deep mental hole of “I’ve painted myself into a teaching corner” and can’t get out. I can’t see past the wall right now, but it’s good at least to read from people who aren’t afraid to break the Mother Theresa vocational bubble crap that teachers are supposed to asphyxiate under. It’s a job, not a calling, folks. But I feel that the profession rarely lets us think that way. Or at least, if you try to carve a life outside of the job you are always feeling guilty. Maybe I should speak for myself. Right now I am trying to de-guilt myself so I can give myself permission to quit with a different job waiting. Right now it feels like I might have to take the plunge and quit without a net just to have it done finally. Whew! I feel like I just had the best cry ever–and nary a tear!
[...] engage with other writers. I’ll keep reading Worst Professor Ever and her reflections on why Teachers Can’t ‘Do’ Because They’re Too Freakin’ Burned Out and her guest posts by people like Dr. Karen Kelsky who document the death of a soul (on campus). [...]
Thank God Almighty someone had the courage to write this! I think everyone in my building is suffering burnout. I was once an energetic, thoughtful, creative teacher and the system has sucked the life out of me.
This has been an awful year, and to add insult to injury I recently found out I lost a pregnancy at 20 weeks. It was very difficult for my husband and I. I really struggled with how to tell my students. Although I was told to “take the time I need to take care of my family” I couldn’t help but read between the lines of the “your students miss you” emails (after only a week off which included a surgery) and the responses when I got back of “we needed you” yeah, of course you did. No one wants my job anymore. Subs walked out and refused to work in the classroom again! It made me feel like it was expected that I come back WAY before I was ready only to be bogged down with the bull.
I’m so glad you said that you hate when people say “We need you” because it ticks me off too. How about, my family needs me, and I need to get better. Unfortunately, that’s frowned upon in the teaching profession.
I’m very sorry to hear that – and yes, that’s hat I mean, there are times in everyone’s life where they need to take care of themselves first. It’s unhealthy to be told that’s not okay.