Burn Out

 

I am so burnt out.

I’m not just talking about work, although I will talk about that. And I will say that it is entirely possible that work is a contributing factor, due to the sheer timing of this burnout. I can’t recall the last time I felt this way; I know it hasn’t been within the past year, which leads me to believe it could be connected to teaching in the final 4 weeks of school. This time last year, we were just outside of our first month of Living During a Pandemic, and, truth be told, those early months of the pandemic were relatively easy on my family, all things considered. I left my classroom for Spring Break last year, and never got another day in the classroom with those students. And while it was heartbreaking, and navigating online teaching was a downright nightmare…of course there were some elements of working from home that seem oh-so-appealing now, in this busiest stage of the year.

So sure, I can absolutely contribute some of my burnout to my job. Teaching. Man, I could go on and on for hours about it. I could tell you stats about how many teachers leave the profession within the first five years (nearly 50%), and on average, how many decisions teachers make minute to minute within a school day (1,500*…more than a brain surgeon). But what I could never tell you, because there is no way to put it into words…is how incredible TAXING teaching is. Now, granted, I’m sure every teacher in every grade has their own vault of stories, but I can only speak on the experiences of Pre-K, K & 1^st grade because that is where my backpack has always hung in my career.

*I’d really like to know how they gathered this data…was it someone sitting in a Kindergarten classroom making tally marks every time the teacher had to make a decision within a day??

When people used to make snide comments about how “easy” it is to be a teacher, I’d always retort to this: Ask anyone who has a child(ren)-Is being a parent easy? I can’t imagine that you’d come across a single person that would say “Oh yeah, sure, it’s a breeze!” Well…imagine parenting 20+ students, all the same age, all at the same time. For added fun, make that age five (because us Kindergarten teachers are a whole different kind of crazy!) I’m not claiming that teachers take all the responsibilities on that parents do. But, for the 7 hours a day that those students are with us, they’re ours. We teach them, encourage them, love them, discipline them, laugh with them, get annoyed by them, help them become problem solvers, and help them solve problems. We celebrate with them when they lose a tooth or go up the tall climber on the playground or FINALLY remember that subtract means to take away. We do all of this, all while actually trying to TEACH them something in a classroom day full of disruptions and interruptions and all while putting every single iota of our personal lives on hold for the day because there’s no seconds in the day to be selfish when you have a room full of tiny people NEEDING you.

All the while, parents are behind the scenes, asking you to make sure their child wears their glasses all day even though they hate them, and drinks exactly ¾ of their milk because more than that and they’ll have an upset stomach, but less than that and they can’t build up a tolerance. They forget to send the supplies their child needs to learn, so you spend your money on it, because Lord knows the school budget was long used up back in September for some thing that probably didn’t benefit teachers in the slightest. They get on Facebook and publicly bash you because you sent a message saying you’d be holding their child accountable for bringing their mask everyday (because it’s been the rule since the first day and the school has gone through over 10,000 masks so far). Parents are complaining their child is behind, but never reading the newsletters you take your Sunday nights to prepare, and not checking their child’s backpack to see the tips and support packets you sent home a month ago.

Look, I said I wasn’t going to talk only about teaching, and I won’t. And while this is all sounding like just me bitching and whining…well it is. Teaching Kindergarten is hard. Teaching during a pandemic year is hard. Teaching the last month of the year when EVERYONE is burnt out is hard. TEACHING IS HARD.

But here’s what else. I love it. I love what I do and I love those little babies. I love when they grow up to be 1^st graders that stop by my classroom EVERY SINGLE DAY to give me a hug. I love when they go to 5^th grade and write me notes to tell me that I made a difference in their life. I love when I see them GRADUATING HIGH SCHOOL on Facebook. I love when a couple of amazing parents each year make up for the ones that criticize and ridicule you. I love it all. So here’s the deal. Here’s what I’ve learned and what is okay to say: you can love something and still be looking forward to a break from it. And I’m looking forward to my break from teaching…in 19 long-short days.

 I’m burnt out on having to fight for Kelsey. Read that again. I did not say that I’m burnt out on fighting for Kelsey, but I’m burnt out on HAVING to fight for her. Having reasons that constantly remind me of how inequitable life is set up for her. I’m tired of having to repeatedly ask people to give me space in the handicapped parking spot so that I can get her into her wheelchair. I’m tired of having to jump the potholes and the sidewalk because there is no zero-threshold entrance for her. I’m tired of needing two extra arms when I’m trying to open a door and push her wheelchair through it at the same time. I’m tired of people refusing to make eye contact with me when I’m doing difficult thing with her, because it’s uncomfortable for them.

I remind myself daily that people don’t and aren’t intentionally setting Kelsey or I up for unsuccess. I remind myself that if I had never met Kelsey, maybe I never would have noticed the lack of accessibility for people who are disabled. I notice the need because I have it. Others don’t because they don’t. I remind myself of that. But it doesn’t always help in the moment. I’m human and I get frustrated and I get overwhelmed and sometimes I just feel like we deserve a break.

I’m burnt out on the weather. Could it just be warm already?

I’m burnt out on the dishes. HOW ARE THERE ALWAYS SO MANY DISHES?

I’m burnt out on alarm clocks and having to lay out my clothes the night before and STILL HAVING BOXES TO UNPACK BECAUSE I’M SO DAMN TIRED.

 

So yeah, I’m burnt the hell out.

 

But here’s what else I am, (aside from on my period and emotionally hijacked by my own body’s chemistry). I am so incredibly lucky.

I am madly in love with my husband. Every day. Even when he makes me want to scream and think for 5 short seconds how quiet my life was when I was single. He loves me so well, every day, better than I deserve most days and always without question.

I am the (step)mom to a truly incredible kid who teaches me so much about life, and has made me such a better person by opening my eyes to hardships that I probably would’ve ignored otherwise.

I  am a woman with some INCREDIBLE friends that I can talk to every day, that let me be me, whatever that looks like that day, and that love me and support me no matter what.

I am the daughter to a dad who would drop everything for me, and to a mother that taught me SO much about life and love that I will hold on to forever.

I am building a team of women who are empowering themselves and others to feel beautiful, important and purposeful.

I am building a LIFE THAT I LOVE. 

Leave it to me to take a blog about burnout and end it on a positive note *eye roll*. Sometimes I just need to express all the hard stuff to make me appreciate all the good even more. So I'll live here, in this Burnt Out Stage for as long as I need to...but not so long that I lose sight of the beautiful stuff.