Teaching and Decision Fatigue

September, October, November… Three months in. Then why do I feel so tired… like June tired? I could fall asleep at 7:30 every night and be perfectly content to do so. We are five days a week in, all kids in, like all of them. The ones who were in last year, the ones who were part time and the ones who were at home. Everyone… all of … them.. Do you hear the echo yet? If you read my last blog post then you know, this year is clunky to say the least. The demands are heavy. The behaviors are A LOT. I am grateful for the five days, I am grateful for my awesome co-workers, but I am maxed out on decision making. The other morning I watched the clock between 8:30 and 9:00 am and I made 27 decisions in a half an hour. I”m not even joking. Three students came in looking iffy. and sniffling. I filtered whether to send them to the nurse or to monitor them for the continued fall cold that they can’t seem to let go of. One student came to school without a jacket for the eighth day in a row and I made a mental note to get some of my son’s old clothes out of the closet. One ate his breakfast in forty five seconds and I clocked if he’s been eating snack the same amount of time and how he might need food sent home with him on the weekends. Three couldn’t do the math paper and one wrote his name wrong. Sigh. Simultaneously I thought about how I am probably planning work that is too difficult for some, not difficult for others, will I be observed today? Why do I never correct the done basket? How come I’m not more organized? Why is this room so god damn freezing? I followed this up by asking three kids to pull their mask up before I even asked them how their weekend was? Holy crap, I didn’t even ask how their weekend was.

Can you see my dilemma? A few weeks ago, we received an email from central office on the seniority of teachers. I rolled back in my chair and scrolled up. Wouldn’t you know it, yours truly is getting higher on that totem pole and I mean like pretty high. I remember when I used to worry if I would make the cut during budget talks. Now I’m like towards the middle top, a middle top muffin. Isn’t that awesome? Well yes and no. It’s also hella sad. Over this pandemic, teachers have either ran screaming to retirement or walked reluctantly towards that door, because teaching in a pandemic is just not the same, any way you hack it. A lot of the air has left the balloon. Assemblies are a rarity, classroom parties have lost that sizzle, kids leave in droves having to quarantine, while you watch from the window, sighing because they were making so much progress.

This is not for lack of trying. I have eight kids reading at the kindergarten level, but this little writer is moving em. Moving em up to mid kindergarten people! Now before you get all judgmental. It’s been two months. Just two months and I’ve got them writing, I’ve got them recognizing short vowels, and adding double digit numbers. I’ll pat my own self on the back for that, thank you very much, but I’m still pushing them. Most days I feel like that scene in the Grinch where he is on the steep hill just pushing that sled with all his muscle power and all the shit is falling off the side. That’s me on the daily teaching. If my students were just behind that would be one thing, but hour to hour, sometimes minute to minute, I have to make judgement calls. Am I pushing this one too hard? Are they acting out because they are bored or have zero social skills? Should I separate those two or just leave it because I have moved name tags 37 times. Should I buy something else on teacher pay teacher, because this worksheet is too hard, even though I already spent 500 dollars this year? Should I fake smile during that workshop when the presenter tells me to use my professional judgement, when I look at the faces of 10 new teachers in a meeting and say you don’t automatically have that judgement your first year.

Some days I am so overwhelmed, I just tell myself, you can get to snack time. You can get to noon time. You have time for a walk. The rest can wait. I literally look in the mirror and say to myself, you are doing a great job. You are the person for this job. The other day, my husband told me I was working out too much. Not in like a I’m worried about you way, but like you get home and you immediately work out. I admitted that working out was all I felt like I had control over and that it feels so topsy turvy at work, I just can’t seem to find my footing.

During parent teacher conferences, I shared out on how students are doing and I didn’t feel like the sassy expert I usually do, because what is meeting the standard any more? What is typical? What is over achieving? It is all so messy and utterly exhausting.

So what are the answers? What will make it better? What makes that decision fatigue go away? In a perfect world, staffing, time to plan, time to recharge, time to rebuild. I’m not an admin or on the school board, but I think school staff all need a reprieve day once a week or even once a month. I think teachers need more planning time, because the DIFFERENTIATION is so great and so widespread that it is impossible to do in forty minutes of prep. I think ed techs should be given a pay raise and a day off and a parade to boot. I think our administrative assistants should get longer lunch breaks and actual 15 minute breaks like they do at minimum wage jobs. I think lunch breaks should be sacred and an announcement should be made to enjoy that walk, or time in the sun, or zen time with coffee. I think teachers should get a catered supper during parent teacher conferences. I think school staff should be compensated for the money that they spend out of their own pocket to do their daily job. I think grade levels should all have the same special so they can joint plan together if they choose. I don’t think title one staff should do recess duties, because it is a waste of their talents and students miss out on precious small group time. I think that freakin copier should actual work when I ask it too and not just when I kick it. I think art on a cart is a thing of the devil. I also wouldn’t mind if there was a Starbucks at the end of the school, access to good dark chocolate and a mirror that reads girl, you are killing it today. PLUS and this is a big plus and for real for real. I want healthy healthy hot lunch for my babies that I teach. I know a lot of it is federal and governmental and big brother, and I sound like Michelle Obama, but I think breakfast bags should have a banana and a yogurt. I think kids should get homemade muffins, warm, with cinnamon dust on the top. Some of the hot lunch food, kids are just not eating. They come back from recess still hungry. Hungry, hangry and sugar crashed.

I know what you are thinking. Girl, you got 99 problems and I do, but I’m trying. I show up. I tell kids everyday that they are up against it. I end every reading group with I am proud of you. I see the work you are doing. I drive in the parking lot each morning and don’t turn around to go back home. I check on co-workers when they have covid, when they think they have covid, when they did have covid and are now exhausted from it. If this blog post does nothing else, I hope it shows you why I look like a busted version of Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed, before she got hot and landed that cute teacher. I am tired, and it’s only November, so I gotta dig my heals in, problems and all.