The Burnout You Don't Talk About: Pouring From an Empty Cup in Education

Let me start by saying this: the education field is not for the weak—especially not for special education teachers. People often assume that being a teacher is an easy gig. But truthfully, teaching is one of the hardest professions out there. And let’s not even get started on how the pay doesn’t match the physical and mental toll the job takes.

People love to yell, “Teachers get two months off in the summer!” Well, let’s clarify that real quick. That time off isn’t a bonus—it’s just your yearly salary spread out over twelve months instead of ten. If you took smaller checks for ten months, you could “get paid” to be off in the summer too. But let’s get back to it. Unless you've been a teacher or are close to someone who is, you truly have no idea what it takes to show up every day in that role. Those two months off? They are earned. And even then, many teachers still work summer school or take on extra jobs because that salary just doesn’t stretch far enough—especially if you're a single woman without a partner’s income to help.

Male teachers often coach, which gives them a salary boost. But let’s talk about why burnout is eating teachers alive. Let’s talk about why so many are walking away.

Most teachers go into the profession because they think they love teaching. Somewhere along the way, someone probably told them, “You’re so nurturing!” or “You’re a natural leader—you should teach!” Some people get into it for the school schedule, especially if they have kids of their own. But whatever the reason, that passion tends to fade fast in today’s educational climate.

Let’s be real: a lot of people in leadership positions in education should not be there. There’s a lot of nepotism—people getting jobs because of who they know, not what they know. Poor leadership at the top trickles down. And poor admin means little to no support for teachers. Then add parents who act like they know more than trained educators. You wouldn't walk into a hospital and tell the doctor how to treat you—but somehow everyone thinks they’re qualified to tell teachers how to do their job.

And the students? Many of them don’t value education. They’re immersed in social media, chasing fame, thinking they can skip the grind because someone on TikTok did it. Respect for the process, for the teachers, and for the classroom is at an all-time low.

I work in an affluent district in North Texas. And for whatever reason, in Texas, we don’t fail kids anymore. We just push them through. That’s how you get seventh graders who can’t read or write, but they’ve got the newest Jordans and the latest iPhone. Make it make sense.

Let’s talk student behavior. I’ve witnessed students curse out their teachers and administrators—in suburban schools. What’s the consequence for a student yelling, “Shut the fk up and get off my dk!” to a teacher? Maybe a day in ISS. Detention, if that. There’s no accountability. Teachers call parents, and the parents are immediately defensive: “Well, what did you do?” Excuse me?

So many teachers are realizing that no matter what brought them into this field, it’s just not worth it. It’s not worth the stress, the nights spent planning lessons, the weekends lost to grading. It’s not worth the anxiety meds, the blood pressure pills, the constant emotional drain. It’s not worth the low salary to show up and be verbally abused every day.

And honestly? I say good for them for finally waking up.

So, what are we really teaching students?

We’re teaching them that they can do the bare minimum and still pass. That there are no real consequences for bad behavior. That if they complain enough, things will be made easier. But that’s not how the world works. College professors won’t care about your excuses. Strangers on the street won’t tolerate your disrespect. And law enforcement definitely won’t be lenient.

Sadly, many of these students aren’t prepared for the real world. They weren’t taught at home, and they can’t be taught at school. Like the old folks say back home in Mississippi: “Ain’t no lesson like a bought lesson.”

So, if you know a teacher—show them some love. Show them some grace. Because they are the true heroes holding it down on home soil.

My question to you is: Do you know your worth enough to avoid the pitfalls of burnout?