entry three

 Friday 2/28/25

Today was one of those days where burnout hit me from all sides, and it felt overwhelming. The day began with a field trip to a museum for Black History Month with my first graders. Unfortunately, the museum was small and not very age-appropriate for my students. Instead of engaging them, the exhibits left many of them confused and distracted. This made it difficult to maintain their attention and create the enriching experience I had envisioned. Managing a small group of seven-year-olds while trying to keep them engaged in an exhibit that didn’t meet their developmental needs felt like a constant battle. Between the bus ride, guiding them through the museum, and making sure no one was left behind, my mental energy was drained. I spent the whole trip just trying to keep things under control. At least I did not have to manage the entire class! My co-teacher and I invited many chaperones to help create smaller groups for the field trip. 

Before we even left for the trip, I had to handle a misbehaving eighth-grade student. I had to write them up, which added more stress to an already overwhelming morning. It felt frustrating that I had to take time out of my already tight schedule to deal with this behavior. By the time we got back to school, I was mentally exhausted, and the day kept piling on more demands.  

In my personal life, burnout showed up in the form of mental exhaustion. When I got home, I replayed the day over and over in my mind—wondering if I could have done anything differently to make the field trip or handling the student more effective. I felt guilty for not being fully present with my family, and I didn’t have the energy to engage with them. I spent the evening trying to mentally check out, but I found it hard to fully disconnect. 

To manage my burnout, I took small but intentional breaks throughout the day, stepping outside for fresh air and trying to reset my mind. I reminded myself that it was Friday, and the weekend was almost here. Although I didn’t feel completely recharged, those small moments of relief helped me push through. I felt a sense of relief when the day finally ended, but I know I need to develop better strategies for handling stress and burnout long-term. I ended my day with a self-care trip to the salon - freshly washed hair after a long week felt so good. 

 

Chasing the Quiet

The week stretches,   

longer than it should,   

a rubber band pulled too tight,   

snapping back with each new task,   

each lesson plan,   

each set of eyes staring at me,   

waiting,   

hoping.   

 

I count the days in hours,   

and the hours in breaths.   

Monday feels like Wednesday,   

Wednesday is already Friday,   

and yet—   

the bell rings,   

again,   

and I am still here,   

still moving,   

still talking,   

still trying to be present.   

 

The noise is constant.   

A hum,   

a buzz,   

like a thousand voices inside my head.   

I am one voice,   

and it is never enough.   

 

I wear patience like a second skin,   

but it’s thin,   

thin as pages in an old dusty book,   

and I am tired of pretending.   

The IEPs are piling up,   

as I enter IEP season 

and the demands are getting louder,   

and I shrink smaller   

underneath it all.   

 

At home,   

I try to breathe and escape,   

but the weight of the classroom follows me,   

clings to me like dust.   

I should be here,   

but I’m somewhere else,   

my mind racing ahead,   

chasing the lesson I didn’t finish,   

the student I didn’t reach,   

the words I didn’t say.   

 

On Monday,   

the cycle will begin again,   

but this weekend,   

I hope to find moments to be still.   

It isn’t enough,   

but it is something.   

And something   

is all I can give.