I'm a teacher but it's not my whole life

I’m a bad teacher.

I’m not trying to belittle myself here. But it’s true.

I will leave work every day at 4:15 if I can. There might be piles of papers lying around. Grades that haven’t been submitted. Emails that haven’t been responded to.

I might find myself prepping activities on the spot. Improvising lesson plans because they don’t work. I might even ditch lesson plans completely and switch to something more practical. More engaging. More relevant.

Sometimes I’ll put on calm music and let them color. Or I’ll ditch the slideshows and hand them Play-Doh. I downplay state assessments and let them redo tests until they get it right.

I’m a bad teacher.

I leave my work life at school and prioritize my home life at home. I set boundaries because I’ve learned the hard way that teaching can and will take over my whole life if I let it.

There’s always an email to respond to.
Always documentation to record or report.
Phone calls to make.
Grades to put in.
Projects to prep.
A classroom to organize.

I love teaching. Don’t get me wrong. But it’s not my identity. It can’t be. Because that’s when teacher burnout sets in. The perfectionist in me dies a little bit admitting this. Because of course I want the Pinterest-perfect classroom with the blogs and the TPT account.

But I also want to have a strong relationship with my daughter, who needs her mom.

A relationship with her dad because he needs a partner who is present.

I want to have coffee with friends and watch football on the weekends. I want to attend birthday parties. Go on trips. Have game nights. All of the things.

I want to enjoy my life. So maybe it’s bad to say. But I’m a better teacher for being a “bad teacher.”

I’m still joyful in the morning. I still love being here. I get excited about the day and optimistic for the week.

I still love what I do, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

Originally published on the author’s Instagram page