Thriving as a Special Educator Tip #10: Remember that You Matter Too

For the final blog post in this series (for now!), I wanted to restate what I hope is obvious. You matter too. Take care of yourself. I kind of feel like the best thing to do in this post would just be to write you matter a thousand times over. It seems so simple right? But like, it’s hard to remember day to day. 

My sister has a story she tells of the difference for her as a first year teacher and a second year. As a first year teacher, she stayed up the entire night before the first day of school trying to get absolutely everything perfect. She rolled in wild eyed and crazy haired, chipped polish nails and rumpled clothing. As a second year teacher, she quit early the night before even though things weren’t perfect and got her nails done. She rolled into the first day of year two nails shiny, makeup tight, hair done, looking sharp.  Part of it was her students– they really were not into raggedy nails– but part of it was her. Sometime in her first year she realized that she mattered too. 

I finally started Abbott Elementary the other day. The show is a little too real– I was nodding along way more than was probably good. But one of the scenes that stood out to me was when the veteran teacher was getting her nails done on her break– and the contrast the show drew between their self-care and the newer teachers focus on caring just for their students. I wish that lesson wasn’t one that most of us seem to learn first hand.

I think I already mentioned it but my first year as a teacher, despite four years as a para, was ROUGH. Stuff got broken every day. I had a student once throw the projector to the floor and jump up and down on it. Bookshelves spent more time tumbling than upright and I went through four plate glass windows. I had all of the support in the world– about as many staff as students– but nothing really seemed to click. And it was so much worse if I was out. That was when it got really bad. So I wasn’t out. My aunt and uncle came to town for the first time ever to visit. I took no time. I was exhausted. I took no time. It finally came to a head one day when I had what turned out to be a really, really not good reaction to an antibiotic. I woke up dizzy and spotted head to toe (yep looked even weirder than you are imagining). I showed up at work and the nurse was like you are spotted and probably diseased, go away. I was like but who will be there for my students? I wound up in the hospital for a several days and guess what? The school didn’t fall apart. Things were rocky in my class but I started to realize exactly how dumb my savior complex was. The problems in my class weren’t all about me– the issues weren’t happening just because I was new– if that was the case all of the high-level support and guidance I was getting would actually have made a difference. But the solutions in my class also weren’t all about me– I had a team and burning myself out and pushing myself so hard that I didn’t even want to go to the ER for a life threatening allergic reaction wasn’t the solution.

Hopefully none of these stories make any sense to you and you are like crazy lady, I always call out sick– and I always get my nails done. But my hunch is that many of you are kind of like me, my sister, and the new teachers on Abbott. You are stuck in  the, “If I just work a little more, if I  just push a little harder, then I can make everything perfect.” Guess what. I never got to perfect. I got to pretty danged good– but I did it not by pushing myself harder but by pushing myself less. I started leaving work earlier and working out more. I started taking the time to chat to colleagues in the morning and to not make every single conversation at work problem focused. I started doing silly things at work to make myself happy from trying to get all of the students at my school as hooked on seaweed as they were on sweets (just so you know: SUCCESS! A parent of a student who I did not work with stopped me one day to ask if I knew why her kid kept asking for seaweed at the grocery store) to decorating my bulletin board in the exact way I knew would drive my paras crazy because it made me laugh.

You aren’t going to be a perfect teacher ever. You are going to have days where your classroom falls apart in spectacular ways, where your colleagues are angry at you, where parents are furious, and where you feel like an utter failure. Even and especially on those days you matter. Giving your all as a teacher doesn’t mean running your battery to empty. It means leaving enough in the tank that you have the emotional capacity and energy to deal with all of the daily ups and downs of a teachers life.

So before I end this, let me tell you about some of my role model teachers– the teachers who cared for themselves and used it to be better for the students.

Mr. M. Mr. M teaches third grade. He has for approximately a million years (okay like 20) and he is a killer teacher. He just makes stuff make sense to kids– and there are never any behavioral issues in his class. Like he is magic. Mr. M. also firmly believes in never staying late. He gets done what he can in the designated work hours and then pieces out to golf. ALL THE TIME. He goes on date nights with his wife like every weekend and no one has ever seen him take work home. He is a unicorn.

Mr. F. (yep am on a male teacher roll here). Mr. F had a major medical emergency in class about five or ten years ago. His students saved his life. Literally. After that, he changed. He became the calmest teacher ever, the one you wanted for all of your students with behavioral challenges because nothing could phase him. He also started leaving work earlier and spending more time with his family. He switched to balance and the consensus at work was that it made him an even better teacher.

Ms. M. was really into cool nails, sci fi, and having time to actually be there for her family. She crushed it every day and when school was out, she didn’t want to talk to you about work. She wanted to talk to you about all of the other cool stuff in her life. 

These veteran teachers and many more were who I looked as I tried to figure out how to have balance in my life– how to be a kick butt teacher while treating myself like I mattered to. Also, if it counts, I also saw each of these teachers also SUPER struggle at least once. The ant invasion one fall really hit Mr. F. HARD. These teachers weren’t perfect– just dang good– and that was what I admired about them– because I knew I was never going to get to perfect but dang good seemed an excellent bar to aim for.

So just in case you somehow forget, this is a reminder that you matter. That extra hour at work, that skipping sleep or a hair appointment for one more pass on a lesson– they run down your battery and your students deserve an imperfect but emotionally recharged you. And plus, like my sister found out, many of them truly appreciate nice nails. She once deescalated an upset student purely with the power of her nails. He was just so proud of her for finally doing them he forgot what he was mad about. Who knows? Maybe that will happen to you too!