It’s an uncomfortable situation to experience and an even more uncomfortable story to tell- the struggles of recovering from trauma experienced as a teacher. Whether the trauma is a result of student infliction or another workplace injury, not being able to perform as the independent, super-teacher you once were can be a challenge for educators. We are trained to cope with any challenge, to put our physical and mental health last and to be the last standing hero when everything else around us and our school is falling. Teachers are supposed to manage the class, grade papers, volunteer after school, give up planning periods, be innovative while strictly following the curriculum, wow administrators during an evaluation, and interrupt summer breaks for schoolwork, training, and summer reading assignments. The stress of such expectations is vastly underestimated and often ignored. Approximately 61% of educators admit that being an educator is a stressful job that often burdens them (Rubin, 2018). When trauma occurs, teachers are expected to recover as quickly as possible in order to tend to the matters of the school with little consideration given to what is in their best interest. As a matter of fact, if one can limp into the classroom, it is expected for teachers to perform with the same energy and enthusiasm as before.
The penalty of less than perfection after trauma can range from overzealous monitoring of teaching practices to a decrease in disciplinary support. In turn, the effects of trauma bear down heavily upon teachers, making it difficult for them to find balance in their classroom, feel a sense of comfort in their work zone, and even make important decisions about the pathway of their career. They either become too afraid to speak up about their struggles or become so rigid that they lose their skill and passion as an educator. For those who choose to remain in the profession, they may begin frequently missing work or being irritable and aggravated by the smallest issues (Rubin, 2018). Their frustrations can funnel into the classroom, making the learning environment tense. Educators are expected to wear a cape that is constantly free of wrinkles, without flaw and that is ready for action anytime. Yet, the truth is that trauma in school is just as damaging to teachers as it can be to students. The loss of a student, the stress to perform at all costs or experiencing a violent attack can affect an educator’s ability to be and feel their best in the classroom.
The stigma that a teacher who needs support is a weak teacher must change if the educational system truly hopes to retain teachers and see students excel. The American Federation of Teachers and the Badass Teachers Association completed a compelling study where educators admit that they frequently feel stressed on the job, they fear retaliation of the school if they speak up (2017). Educators can only help students reach their highest level of success when they are their best. The key to a well-balanced classroom is a well-balanced teacher who can provide proper instruction and give students emotional support. Connecting with a therapist does not make an educator weak; it makes them open to improvement, committed to their best mental health and the best teacher a child could have.
Dear teachers, we are super-beings, but we are not superheroes with supernatural powers. We feel things. We experience things. But we can overcome things. Sometimes overcoming can not be done alone. Just as we need paraprofessionals and co-teachers in the classroom, sometimes we need a partner to work with us through the challenges of school-related trauma and stress. There is a therapist or counselor who is waiting to hear your trauma, stress and worry with no judgment. There’s a future waiting for your greatness. You are not weak for making the call; you are strong for taking charge of your career and life. Teachers, despite the stigma, it’s okay to get a therapist.
Christmas gift to myself. I have been spending evenings watching discussion clips and listening to her share a level of transparency that has not shaken my soul like this since I last heard Nikki Giovanni in person. A few weeks ago, she made a statement that has forever stained my memory. Upon recalling the vicious rumors Donald Trump spread about her husband’s citizenship, she expressed her anger with how much danger he put her family in. Her final words were “What if that person went looking for our girls? Donald Trump, with his loud and reckless innuendos, was putting my family’s safety at risk. And for this I’d never forgive him.” At first, I was bothered by her statement; as graceful and classy as she and President Obama are, I was unnerved to hear she would never let go of that experience. However, I thought of the anxiety she must have felt as she wondered if her daughters would make it to school safely, whether someone would target her mother, or whether her husband would become a martyr like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. How many nights did she stay awake trying to calculate the best moves to protect her family and herself? Then, I felt her. I connected to her and I understood the worries of a mother, daughter and wife. I would struggle with my anger too if the lies of another put my family’s life at risk.
son (mostly the fans crying), most of the people of this state are faithful to the Saints. With adoration they speak of Sean Payton and they don’t believe the day of retirement will ever draw near for Drew Brees. If you say Saints, they automatically scream “Who dat?” If you check their phones, when they type in “Who” the automatic next word will be “dat.” One will have to search deeply to find non-Saints fans, and those individuals are usually subject to hard ridicule and questions of Louisiana loyalty by their family and friends. Though I am not a football expert, I am a lover of Louisiana culture. So before the Colin Kaepernick revolution, I had a natural desire to see our state’s team do well, and I would turn the game on in at least one room, even though I probably wouldn’t watch it.