The term "Teacher Wellbeing" has become a buzzword in many industries, the education sector being no exception. Teachers, teaching assistants and support staff are told to ‘prioritise their wellbeing’ while being overloaded with additional responsibilities, policies and expectations that often undermine their ability to do just that. From staff meetings to lesson planning, from marking and assessments to managing classroom behaviour, parent meetings, curriculum leadership- need I go on. Educators juggle a range of roles that extend far beyond the classroom walls. The result is a level of pressure and burnout that no amount of misunderstood corporate wellbeing ‘jargon’ can truly address in the context of teaching. It's time to challenge the narrative and highlight the real wellbeing crisis of teachers until it is treated with the seriousness it deserves. I even know that just reading this blog for teachers is at the cost of doing something they feel they should be, I can only apologise and hope this brings you the recognition you deserve.
The Many Hats of a Teacher and Their Workload Challenges
Let’s start with the undeniable fact that teachers wear an overwhelming number of hats. Although I’m not fond of the expression itself (more on that another time), it does capture just how many roles a teacher takes on and the impact on Teacher Wellbeing. Each day is packed with a variety of tasks that require different skills, energy levels, and emotional investment. It’s important to recognize the strain on Teacher Wellbeing due to the vast responsibilities teachers manage—many of which go beyond their job descriptions but are necessary to support their students and keep the classroom running smoothly. Then there are the unspoken rules and expectations of “just doing your job.” Let me name a few…
1. Educator: The most obvious role is planning and delivering lessons that align with the curriculum, meeting the required learning objectives and ensuring students acquire the knowledge and skills they need to progress. But teaching is far from that simple. Each lesson must cater to students with different learning styles, abilities and backgrounds, requiring endless adaptability. Never mind the protocols and systems for various means of assessment, tracking and accountability measures.
2. Counsellor: Students face all sorts of personal challenges—mental health issues, family problems, bullying, to name a few. Teachers are often the first adults to notice when a student is struggling and they’re expected to offer emotional support, guidance and even intervention. Though this can be present during lessons, this most realistically is extensively discussed and thought-through outside teaching hours and undeniably can leave many of us awake at night.
3. Mediator: Classrooms are full of different personalities, thus conflicts are inevitable. Whether it’s playground fallouts or more serious incidents, teachers must act as mediators, managing disputes and fostering a safe, respectful environment for everyone. Again, many of these are expected to be recorded, monitored and discussed (in meetings, where necessary)- time which is forgotten about on the outside looking in.
4. Administrator: Alongside teaching, educators are buried under mountains of paperwork, from marking assignments to tracking student progress and filling out endless forms. That is not including the sheer mass of new systems, policies and initiatives that are added, many just as a result of the last staff meeting. Each task consumes time and energy that could be better spent in face-to-face student interaction or planning engaging lessons, we can only wish this is where we could invest more of our time. It goes without saying that some students’ and their needs come with a considerable increase in administrative tasks too, yet you’re expected to do this in the same timeframe as those who don’t have such cohort dynamics.
5. Parent Liaison: Communication with parents is another significant part of a teacher’s job. This includes everything from regular parent-teacher meetings to discussing behavioural issues, academic progress or providing updates on special educational needs (SEND) support. We all want what is best for the children but sometimes that email, to add to the other thirty from the day, just hits us a little more personally than maybe it should.
6. Role Model: Teachers are role models, not just in academic life but in social, emotional and moral behaviour. Students often look up to their teachers, and the pressure to always “do the right thing” can be daunting. Getting the balance right to show pupils that we are human too without it contributing to their emotional wellbeing can be tough.
7. Technician: With increasing reliance on technology in classrooms, teachers must now also master a variety of digital tools, software and platforms to keep students engaged, especially since the pandemic accelerated the shift to online learning. Technical malfunctions? Teachers often end up being their own IT support or having to fully adapt the lesson they spent hours preparing, to only never get to share it in the way they hoped.
8. Teacher Wellbeing Advocate: Ironically, teachers are often tasked with promoting wellbeing for their students, even when their own is neglected. Educators are expected to integrate emotional learning into the curriculum, encourage mindfulness practices and create a supportive classroom environment—all while their own mental and physical health can take a back seat.
These barely touch the surface- we are all given leadership responsibilities, curriculum writing and development, first aider, mentoring/mentee expectations, event/trip planning, safeguarding responsibilities, need I go on… if you know, you know.
Pressures from Every Angle: Education Sector Stress
The pressure on teachers from the education system is like trying to build a house of cards during an earthquake; carefully balancing one card (a lesson plan, a student issue, a new initiative), whilst the ground beneath them shakes with new expectations, policies and external demands. I found the adrenaline of it exhilarating at times, yet unsustainable. No matter how well we tackle these roles, the system continually destabilises our efforts, making it nearly impossible to keep everything in place without everything tumbling down under the relentless pressure- and when we do, it is at the detriment to our mental health, family time or the quality of our general functioning in life.
While every job comes with its challenges, that is unquestionable, the demands on teachers are often overwhelming and emotionally taxing, especially considering the limited resources and tangible support genuinely available. Not to forget that the job itself doesn’t end once you leave the building. Just because the physicality of the building is closed, it just means we have had to take the work home instead. This is one of the hardest realities of a teacher- separating home-life with work-life because it is more than just a job, it is a lifestyle. With that comes their families and relationships involuntarily accepting the consumption and toll this inevitably has on both themselves and their loved ones too. And in my case, when both of you were teachers, the job doesn’t just follow you home, it becomes a huge part of your relationship- a disconnect that feels impossible. It’s like being in a weird love triangle where your heart knows there’s no choice, you try to do ‘normal’ things yet the job constantly steals time, energy and focus from what really matters.
The notion of meeting sky-high expectations and the need to “do more with less”, alongside the rise of comparative performance metrics and evaluations adds continuous stress to teaching. The push to meet academic targets, especially standardised testing scores, puts undue stress on both teachers and students. This pressure is compounded by the fact that schools often have tight budgets, limiting the resources and support available to teachers, creating a work environment rife with frustration and fatigue. That paired with the pressures to meet teacher targets based on standardised progress measures to define your success as a teacher is just absurd. How can you do everything in your power but be told x needs to make x-point progress regardless of their SEND needs, life events, attitudes and behaviours to learning and exceed the power of that pupil’s retention and functionalities of the brain… oh and don’t forget to prioritise their mental health?! In theory, this system is meant to ensure quality teaching, but in practice, it often feels like surveillance. What do you think we are doing? Afternoon tea in Miss Bennett’s room anyone?
The pressure to always be on top-form every moment of the day creates an unsustainable level of stress for many. Especially when observed, more so by people often so far detached from your pupils and experience in the classroom today – I can promise you, yes, it was a lot different from the narrative ‘When I was a teacher…’ onwards 10-20 years ago. This is not a competition, nor should any form of comparison be made in a climate that is so incomparable from one classroom dynamic to the next. To then have to fit in yet another meeting to be told all the things you could have done better in that short moment, even if you’re just being told that the colour of your pen was wrong, only leads to the inevitable feeling of failure and questioning the necessity of the moment? It turns teaching into a performance, where every lesson is a high-stakes test rather than an opportunity for genuine learning and growth. Where is the team energy here? The faith in our ability, autonomy and reflection from the pupils themselves? Yes, we can learn from everything, but try having to be everything all the time and then try to feel hopeful when all people can see is what you should have, could have and would have done had you had just one minute to only think about just that.
In every school I’ve worked in over the past decade, it’s been the same cycle — relentless pressure on teachers to meet unrealistic demands while navigating multiple roles, all while teacher wellbeing is often mentioned but rarely truly supported. As I’ve progressed through various roles and observed the acceleration of modern society, it’s only gotten worse. The system, instead of improving, seems to tighten its grip. Yet, when you’re in it, it’s hard to recognise just how detrimental it is to teacher wellbeing. You either get told that nothing can be done or that it’s simply ‘the way it is’—the weight of it never changes. It’s systemic, pervasive, and continues to undermine the very people the system relies on.
The Importance of Teachers Mental Health
Nothing makes a teacher’s blood boil more than being chucked the comment ‘well you get so much holiday’. Let me tell you, it does not account for the hours they spend outside of classroom as an accumulation of demands from their roles, to the point that if you genuinely spent time calculating the hourly rate of a teacher, you would snort. And for that, teachers, I admire you every single day. In my second year I actually calculated my hours and worked out that I could have earned more in a coffee shop, leaving my work, at work- madness. For the record, we use the holidays to complete all the work we still couldn’t get done in the week and weekends leading up to it and I am someone who travelled in those ‘holidays’, with my laptop, because to me that was the only balance I could find without sacrificing absolutely everything I love. So yes, please just be a little more considerate next time you feel the need to share that comment to a teacher. Or please, please teach for just a year and leave a review. I don’t regret one day in my job, for me I accepted teaching as a lifestyle choice, not a standalone job. I would do it again in a heartbeat on the condition of such reform for teacher wellbeing.
The sheer volume of work makes it nearly impossible to maintain a healthy work-life balance, leading to burnout, exhaustion and mental health challenges. One of the greatest misconceptions about teachers is that they are solely educators— living, breathing extensions of the classroom. The truth is that teachers have families, personal goals and their own set of daily struggles, just like everyone else. They coordinate the same responsibilities—sleepless nights, collecting their children from school, paying bills, experiencing trauma, maintaining friendships and dealing with own their mental health conflicts— it’s almost as though their role as professionals overshadows their identity as human beings with personal lives.
This disconnection starts early, even in the minds of children. I remember as a child being genuinely surprised when I saw my teacher at the supermarket. I, like many children, assumed they lived at school. The idea that a teacher had a life outside the classroom felt foreign because their presence was so intertwined with the educational environment, their very humanity often masked. This perception is innocent but speaks volumes about how society views teachers: we forget that behind every lesson plan, grade and meeting, there’s a person who is just as complex as any other individual.
The pressure on teachers to constantly be “on” is immense. Often, it feels as if teachers are on-call 24/7, answering emails late into the evening or working through weekends to keep up with their workload. To only receive yet another email, chasing why the first one wasn’t responded instantly, like it was a WhatsApp message. Meanwhile, their personal wellbeing is neglected. How can we expect teachers to thrive in their profession when their human needs are continuously pushed aside? How can we be expected to perform tasks like a robot, with the same 24 hours as everyone else whilst allowing ourselves to be human? The truth is, this expectation isn’t just unfair and unrealistic—it’s inhumane. We don’t expect this from any other profession in the same way, yet, we do this to teachers. Instead we get ‘Here’s a couple of hours a week for planning, preparation and assessment (PPA) but you actually need to do x, y and z first and catch up with all the things you still haven’t managed to tick off your to-do list today because you were tackling things that happen in a day that you couldn’t even prepare for. To then have this time taken away simply because you’re expected to ‘step-up’ due to staff shortages or the over extreme where *child* is having a meltdown, trashing the classroom and the supply teacher has had to evacuate the classroom with the rest of the students.
It’s time we shift this narrative and start recognising the humanity behind every educator. Just because they dedicate their lives to improving the futures of others doesn’t mean their own lives should be the cost. Teachers need time to breathe, to enjoy life, to nurture their own families and to care for their mental health. They are not superhuman, nor should they be treated as such.
Unrealistic Teachers Wellbeing Policies and Misunderstanding Wellbeing
One of the most frustrating aspects of working in education is how the concept of Teacher wellbeing has been co-opted by institutions and policymakers. Schools and educational settings are quick to roll out “teacher wellbeing” initiatives, from flexible hours, workshops to ‘team-building’ days, but these alone often miss the point. Teachers are bombarded with messages about how important their wellbeing is, but are rarely able to actually improve it. The Department for Education and school leadership may introduce teacher wellbeing goals as part of school development plans, but these often come across as superficial, feel-good exercises or are given in conjunction with another responsibility, rather than substantive efforts to address the real issues at hand: unnecessary workloads, teacher autonomy and an environment where emotional intelligence and mental health should be seen as the most important components of a thriving school. Policies are handed down with little input from the people they affect most— teachers and support staff.
Teacher Wellbeing in education has become something I truly believe in because I have seen firsthand the toll the profession is taking on everyone around me. It isn’t just a nice-to-have initiative; it is an essential component of keeping teachers motivated, balanced and mentally healthy. Teacher wellbeing initiatives should be consistent, genuine and free from a token approach. Unfortunately, many schools have one-off implementations, only to cancel them due to budget constraints or they conduct surveys for feedback on wellbeing that lead nowhere because they are vague and defeat the point. This can create an environment where teachers feel their concerns are minimised or mishandled, further contributing to their sense of isolation and burnout. Teacher wellbeing, when misunderstood, can become just another box to tick instead of a genuine, long-term commitment to improving the lives of teachers.
Let’s start with how many put in policy the ability for flexible working. Yes, flexible working hours are often encouraged for teachers, but the reality is that the work is still expected to be done regardless of the schedule. Flexibility in this context simply means you can choose when and where to complete the work, but there is no reduction in workload. The expectation remains that all tasks, from grading to lesson planning and meeting targets, will be fulfilled, often leading to longer hours and more stress. The ‘flexibility’ becomes a burden rather than a benefit, as it requires balancing an immense workload with minimal support to manage it whilst trying to have a life. Similarly, offering access to mental health services is a positive step, but if these services are only offered after a teacher has reached a breaking point or as a means to ‘check the box’ after a teacher wellbeing policy has been violated, it raises deeper concerns. There is also the question of confidentiality: when these services are provided by the school, can staff truly feel safe in discussing their issues without fear of judgment or repercussions? How private are those sessions when the employer has facilitated the service?
Speaking from experience, I was one of the few who was willing, with enthusiasm, to take on the role of leading teachers wellbeing efforts in my school to work towards an environment that truly valued mental and emotional health. The irony here- taking on another role (arguably against my wellbeing), for the prioritisation of teacher wellbeing. Anyway, I made my intentions clear that if I poured my energy, passions and heart into trying to make a real difference it would be genuine, trying to unpick roots and make positive changes that stayed. Creating an open survey to generate feedback is arguably the baseline needed for any new, dedicated initiative, where voices are heard and issues can be addressed, anonymity by choice. Moreover, some of the surveys out there are for generic use are so manipulatively structured, that the wording of the questions themselves lend to specific answers for generalised contexts, far from the core of what’s needed. This can create an environment where teachers feel their concerns are minimised or mishandled, further contributing to their sense of isolation and burnout.
Knowing this, I spent days researching and writing my own to try and get it right- a mutually respective and inclusive platform. What I didn’t expect, naively maybe, was that this could trigger the very fear, anger, stress or anxiety they’re meant to address- yet unknowingly becoming the brunt of it. It’s hard to not take times like this personally with the very thing I sought to improve ended up undermining me, a statement of mockery. It was as though my enthusiasm and care was seen as weaknesses or perhaps too much of a challenge to the status quo. Finding that just the act of handing a survey or the wording of a carefully constructed question could be the exact detonation that highlights the exact reason why it was necessary in the first place. The problem lies in the detriment others can have on you, when it goes against everything you stand for- what is right. Personally, one of the hardest parts still is the fact I was unable to invest in it as planned and trying not to let these experiences ceiling my intentions and purpose. The balance is making decisions that don’t destroy you and your goals whilst you find a new way to pursue them. The mistreatment I experienced was a cry for help in itself—a reflection of just how toxic the education environment has become. The words that were said, the actions that were (and were not) taken and the complete lack of professionalism has been the very reason I chose to redefine what teaching the next generation looked like for me and what should be prioritised and if that means doing it alone, so be it. For me, it started with writing and publishing My Mindful Moments and I can’t wait to share what the future holds…
The Dreaded Word- OFSTED
Just the word itself can be triggering for those in education. The pressures associated with OFSTED inspections are staggering- you only need to google ’The impact of Ofsted on wellbeing’ and it breaks my heart. For many schools, the arrival of an Ofsted team means a whirlwind of preparation, tension and heightened anxiety. Teachers, leaders and support staff are left scrambling to ensure that every box is ticked to fit into a specific framework. The stakes are high—these inspections can determine the future of the school’s reputation, funding and leadership. The results impact not only how schools are perceived externally but also how staff feel about their work and its value.
And now, with wellbeing added as a monitored area, we have to ask: What are we trying to achieve? First and foremost, how can wellbeing be measured in the span of 48 hours, especially in a school full of staff and students just trying to do their best? The reality is, you can’t accurately gauge the mental and emotional wellbeing of a school community in such a short time. What is being measured—tick-box policies or genuine support systems? Teachers feel immense pressure to say the right things and show the right practices during these inspections, often for fear of opening up a can of worms that they simply don’t have the time, resources and sometimes even the courage to address. This approach creates an environment where, instead of fostering authentic wellbeing, schools are pushed to prioritise the appearance of teacher wellbeing over substance. True wellbeing cannot be reduced to the outcomes observed or evidenced in a two-day inspection. Schools need long-term, meaningful changes that support the wellbeing of staff and students alike, not more pressure from the very bodies meant to improve the system.
Retention rates in the education sector are alarmingly poor. Teachers are leaving in droves, not just because of the workload alone, but because any other role seems more desirable at this point. The very people who enter the profession to make a difference — those who are passionate, dedicated and genuinely care about their students — are being driven away. The irony is staggering: we are losing the kind of teachers we need more of in the world. The same system that demands compassion, commitment and care is crushing those qualities out of the people who possess them. How about we use exit interviews with a neutral interviewer or an anonymous support line? Some of us never even had the opportunity for an exit interview and you can’t help but wonder why? The system is built and ran as a business and with that comes a series of exercises that are meticulously evaluated, scrutinised and wellbeing is seen as just another ‘task’. Yet unlike everything else the system is built on, it is immeasurable in the form of standardisation, so what does this leave? Confusion, mishandled terms and a lack of faith in its achievement. It needs to be meaningful, consistent and effective, for the long run.
Travelling and volunteering has opened my eyes to new perspectives and the true value of education, yet we still measure success by how much more we can do, be, or score— losing sight of the deeper purpose of learning. Education is so much more than a qualification or grade. It is about preparing humans for life and the complexities of the world: nurturing emotional intelligence, understanding how we treat others and cultivating the quality of our minds.
Despite the challenges, every ‘aha’ moment I’ve witnessed makes the struggle worth it—education is where we shape the next generation of thinkers, creators and leaders. Imagine what this would look like if we prioritised mental health and wellbeing for everyone? I ultimately made the difficult decision to leave the profession, not because I didn’t want to be a teacher – far from that, it was my dream since I was four, but because I couldn’t continue in an environment that was so fundamentally at odds with everything I believed and was trying to achieve. The passion I had for helping others and improving the lives of those around me was continually eroded by the very system I sought to change. Those who dare to step up and advocate for change are often the ones who can only do so by removing themselves, because the system or the impact of it pushes back. It’s a vicious cycle: the people who have the passion and drive to make education better are being driven out, leaving behind a workforce that’s too overworked, doing all they can with what they have, feeling there’s no other choice or even too scared to speak up. What’s crazy is I wanted to write about this way before it came to this but when would I have time to do such? How would it be perceived? What consequences would I face for speaking up? I know for certain I am not the only one battling such inner monologue. I adore my pupils and many I have continued to teach outside of the school setting. The beauty of teaching wellbeing is that it’s not about who you are but who you help others become. There’s no greater fulfilment than knowing you’ve left a positive impact on someone’s life. Yes, I wish I didn’t leave under the circumstances I express, but I hope one day they will see the power in holding your values so strong is the exact fuel you need to pursue your passion and make a difference in this world, no matter how small.
Closing thoughts...
The Department for Education needs to wake up to this reality. By failing to genuinely support and nurture those who are working to improve education, they are eroding the passion and creativity that make teaching such a powerful profession—and ultimately harming Teacher Wellbeing. Teachers who could have made lasting impacts are leaving for other industries, drawn to roles that don’t drain the soul, morals, and values in the same way. To improve Teacher Wellbeing, it’s essential that teachers and support staff are involved in decision-making processes. This means creating platforms where educators can voice their concerns, give feedback on wellbeing initiatives, and actively shape the policies affecting their working conditions and mental health. When teachers feel empowered to contribute, the likelihood of creating meaningful, practical solutions increases exponentially. After all, every single profession in the world exists because someone was educated by a teacher.
The tragedy is that many of the issues we face could be addressed if we simply treated wellbeing with the seriousness it deserves. What keeps me going is the realisation that this experience was not isolated to me. It’s a systemic problem that countless educators face every day. The more we speak out about it, the more likely we are to bring about change. Instead of brushing it off as a fluffy, secondary concern, we need to understand it and recognise it as fundamental to the success of our education system. Teachers can’t pour from an empty cup. We are talking about lives, humans, not machines. If they aren’t supported, respected and valued, they can’t possibly give their best to their students, no matter how hard they try. School is not just about academic success but the success of humans in society and life, which is far beyond that of a graded system. We need to stop dismissing those who advocate for change and unpack and understand wellbeing for what it really is. If someone like me, who is genuinely enthusiastic about wellbeing, is met with resistance and ultimately driven out of the profession and left feeling that they failed, not in their intentions, but in the inability to enact the change they so deeply believed in, then what does that mean for the generations learning in our system?
The education system depends on the endless unpaid overtime of teachers just to function. The Department for Education needs to understand that they are losing the very essence of the education system by failing to address the severity of teacher wellbeing. Teacher retention isn’t just about salaries or workload— it’s about creating a system where teachers feel supported, respected and valued. In the end, it’s about recognising that the passion, care and commitment that so many educators bring to their roles should be nurtured, not crushed. We need to create a system where teachers are allowed to thrive, as much as the students. A system where their wellbeing is taken seriously and where they can continue to make a difference without sacrificing their mental health in the process. It’s about making wellbeing a priority, not an afterthought or response to the damage already done. And it most certainly should not be because Ofsted says so. The more we glide through the academic years believing a misconstrued reality of ‘that’s what wellbeing is’, the more we strengthen the stigma and disregard towards mental health and wellbeing in society and the harder it will be for change and reform.
We need to start at the core, the education system. We need to get this right. Because if we don’t, we’ll continue to lose the very people who have the potential to change the future of our children, the future of our world.
