Beyond Burnout: Finding Balance and Building Resilience in Teachers

Jessica Sousa, Brigham Young University, Provo, USA

People often say that when life really hits you hard, it happens all at once. That’s exactly what happened to me. I had always thought of myself as a resilient individual. I could conquer any challenge and come out stronger, especially as a teacher. Notwithstanding, there was a time I finally hit rock bottom. Life as a language teacher is undoubtedly difficult. We’re expected to be vulnerable, accept mistakes, and push through underpayment and overwork—mostly because we find intrinsic value in it. I had worked hard to climb the ranks as a new teacher in a private English school, pushing through unpaid hours, long shifts, and every thankless task. Eventually, I found myself in administration, the ideal position, or so I thought. My short-lived career as a teacher coordinator revealed to me how understanding oneself can drastically change how we approach our challenges.

I had already developed a large amount of resiliency before I became a teacher coordinator. I was a newlywed in an intercultural marriage, a landlord dealing with constant upkeep of an old house, a student earning my Master’s degree in TESOL, a volunteer coordinating a refugee program, and a teacher working over 50 hours a week in three different schools while waiting for my husband’s work authorization. I had experienced different levels of stress before, but not to this extent. One of my TESOL professors was an avid meditation and yoga fan who encouraged us to utilize mindfulness to better manage our own life demands. At the same time, I decided to join a research group focused on positive psychology in education. Unfortunately, despite learning how to flourish, I still believed I was a failure.

My stress levels continued to rise. I felt like a hypocrite for creating positive psychology-based English content, and yet I could not practice what I preached in my lessons. Why were all these self-care regimens not working? How was it that watching a movie or taking a bath only made me feel more on edge? Wasn’t deep breathing supposed to be relaxing? While trying to follow generally sound advice, I was making my own matters worse.

The turning point came when I took a character strengths questionnaire, which was quite different from a typical personality test. I discovered that one of my top strengths was my love of learning, and after researching more, I realized I relaxed better by learning something new. It was such a simple concept, yet it had never occurred to me before. After this, I began adapting routines to suit my preferences. Although I enjoy journaling about my everyday life, it never worked for my classrooms. Writing reflections after a lesson seemed to only fuel my stress. Instead, I managed teaching challenges better by discussing them with others. Despite my doubts, it worked. I spent months rediscovering myself and experimenting with new strategies to survive and thrive in my workplace.

After learning more about myself, I altered the way I gave advice to my students. For example, instead of assuming most of my students would handle test anxiety in similar ways, I offered them a wide range of strategies and allowed them to try out a few until they found their own niche. When possible, I would get to know my students well enough that I could understand their own personal needs and preferences. I led my students to discover themselves too—as siblings, spouses, parents, employees, neighbors, students, and more—because each of their situations required different solutions. Finally, I felt I could handle the stress of being a teacher forever. Or I did, until I received a promotion.

Once I became an IEP administrator, I saw teacher burnout from an entirely new viewpoint: someone else’s. I had learned how to manage my own difficulties, but I hardly knew how to help the other teachers I worked with. That particular school was strongly money-driven and business-oriented. Even though I was technically in a position of power, I had little authority to take action. The teachers I supported often thanked me for my efforts, but we all knew I was barely making an impact with our higher-ups. I had meetings almost daily in my office, where I struggled through many overwhelming and tearful conversations. I was completely unqualified to be an unlicensed therapist for these educators. I wondered, couldn’t there be more resources or a better system in place for teachers to cope? Shouldn’t teachers have some sense of confidence or security in their work? I was constantly afraid of teachers suddenly quitting. I started gathering their suggestions, but everything I recommended was disregarded by the school directors. It was painful to see teachers, the forefront of our education system, be so thoroughly ignored. Ultimately, I decided to not return after two semesters, and ten of the fifteen teachers followed suit. Those teachers expressed that they did not need grand bonuses or ideal working hours. What they really wanted were coworkers whom they could rely on, directors who listened, and an occasional token of genuine appreciation. At the end of the day, our directors did not know most of the teachers' names, and that signified so much of what was missing.

My suggestion to anyone is to never assume you know everything there is to know about yourself. Times change, and so do we. Our students, theories, technology, techniques, and classrooms change too. So many environmental factors can affect our ability to stand tall in the educational field. We must stand firm in our roots but be willing to bend with the wind and discover views we never noticed before. What may work for one person may not work for another; at times, we have to continue through trial and error until we find what we’re looking for.

Through it all, I learned this: individuality matters. Whether you're in the classroom or leading others, start by learning who you are. I promise it can and does get better.

Jessica Sousa graduated with two certificates and an MA in TESOL and has taught in various ESL/EFL contexts for the past eight years. She currently works as a language and learning specialist for international collegiate athletes. Her interests include curriculum and materials development, assessment and feedback, and researching positive psychology in language learning.