Dear We Are Teachers,
I teach high school English, and I can feel how heavy the energy is this year. My students are anxious, withdrawn, irritable—some have opened up about serious mental health struggles. I do my best to be supportive, but I’m not a counselor, and I don’t want to say the wrong thing. At the same time, I can’t ignore it. I can’t teach when half the room is emotionally checked out. How do I show up for them in a real way without burning out myself—or crossing lines I shouldn’t?
—SEL’s Not Cutting It
Dear S.E.L.N.C.I.,
First: I’m so glad you’re not trying to take on the role of a counselor. Too many schools do everything but ask teachers formally. You shouldn’t be expected to fill that role, and it’s not safe for you or your students if you try. But what you are is a trusted adult in their lives, and that counts for more than you may realize.
I think the most important thing is to know your referral path. Find out exactly what your school’s process is for connecting students to counselors, social workers, or outside resources. If you’re unsure, ask your counselor directly.
You can also build in micro-moments of helping students care for themselves. We’re not overhauling class into a therapy session, here. Sometimes it’s as small as starting with a two-minute free-write (we have a fabulous mindfulness journal here), trying some new breathing exercises, or stopping for a fun brain break when the room feels tense.
And finally—protect your own bandwidth. You can’t pour from an empty coffee mug (yours is probably already chipped and full of cold coffee you poured hours ago). Show up with compassion, but remember: being a stable, consistent presence for your students is already a gift. That’s enough.
Dear Advice Team,
My school technically has A/C, but thanks to the “energy-saving schedule” (and maybe the unlucky location of my classroom), it barely feels like it. They run the air just before students arrive and shut it off 45 minutes before dismissal. That might work for kids who leave at the bell, but for teachers who come early or stay late, it’s like working in a sauna. By third period, I’ve sweat through my shirt, and after school I feel like I’m grading essays in a literal sauna. Do you have tips for surviving this heat, or is this a situation where I should get my admin involved?
—Overheated and Underappreciated
Dear O.A.U.,
Ah, yes. I’ve been in several schools like this. Reminds me of that Shakespeare line: O cruel thrift, that saves a penny yet slays the tutor’s comfort!
(Shakespeare didn’t say that, but doesn’t it sound like he could have?!)
This is one of those “choose your own adventure” situations. Depending on your comfort level, I’d recommend either employing some additional perks, pursuing systemic advocacy, or both.
Personal hacks
- A small desk fan
- Cooling necklace or personal cooling fan
- Keep a backup shirt and mini deodorant on hand for wardrobe changes and touchups as needed
Systemic advocacy
- Measure the temperature in your room. If it’s above 76 degrees Fahrenheit, they are outside of OSHA’s recommendations. You can learn more about OSHA’s indoor air quality guidelines for schools here.
- It may be worth checking in with a doctor to see if a hormonal imbalance may be making things worse. If you have certain health conditions, a doctor may write you a note excusing you from teaching in a furnace.
- Bring it up to admin as, “My students are struggling to focus, and I worry it’s impacting instruction.” That’s hard to brush off.
- If all else fails, find your loudest, most connected parent and apologize for the sweltering temperatures in Johnny’s classroom. Start a stopwatch for how quickly the situation gets addressed.
If you want to be very cheeky, you might have someone check the temperature at the admin building. Then, remind them of the old Shakespeare line: Doth not the board feel scorch’d, or is their office graced with sweeter winds?
(Just kidding again. I’m on a roll, though.)
Dear We Are Teachers,
I just started my second full week teaching at a large, successful public elementary school after spending years at a Waldorf school. The culture shock is real. The pace is so fast I feel like I have whiplash, I have next to no time to get to know my 3rd graders, and I’m noticing a lot more time with screens—Chromebooks, smartboards, digital assessments, you name it. I miss the slower, hands-on rhythm of my old school, and I’m worried about burning out before winter break. How do I adjust without losing what I loved about teaching before?
—Missing My Knitting Needles
Dear M.M.K.N.,
The beginning of the year feels like whiplash for every teacher—I can’t imagine the extra shock coming from working at a school with a totally different educational philosophy.
The bad news: it’s not going away overnight.
The good news: while you are in a new setting, you don’t have to throw the baby out with the bath water, so to speak. Look at it this way: you have an amazing opportunity to bring pieces of your old teaching style into your new classroom.
My top 3 recommendations:
- Remember: the beginning of the year is particularly chaotic. Don’t look at what’s happening right now as the way it’ll always be. The ways you’ll adjust + the leveling off of back-to-school paperwork will meet in the middle somewhere.
- Find ways to integrate. Instead of fighting technology as a whole, think about ways to blend them. For example, have students use digital tools (like audio recording apps or simple video editors) to create their own myths or fables—then share them aloud in a circle.
- Build in tiny moments of slowness. Even in a fast-paced school, you can pause for reflection, ask open-ended questions, or do a class read-aloud for the last five minutes of class. Those little Waldorf touches matter.
Transitions are exhausting. It doesn’t mean you’re failing—it means you’re human. By winter break, you’ll have a rhythm (and maybe even a colleague who’s secretly also crocheting under the desk at staff meetings).
Do you have a burning question? Email us at askweareteachers@weareteachers.com.
Dear We Are Teachers,
I’m a veteran teacher with solid classroom management skills—at least, I used to be. This year, my 5th graders are in a constant state of low-level disruption: side chats, blurting out, phone sneakiness, general restlessness. Nothing big enough to write a referral over, but enough to make every class feel like I’m just herding chaos. I’ve tried proximity, calling home, even redoing my seating chart twice. The worst part? I feel like I’m spending all my energy being “strict,” which isn’t me, and it’s exhausting. How do I manage without losing my mind or turning into the teacher I swore I’d never become?
—Still Standing (Barely)