It’s a great conversation with Craig Randall of Trust-Based Observations. You can listen to it right now by going here.

Don’t miss it!

How can it be that teachers all over the country want to be observed? How can it be that observations of their teaching bring teachers joy?

Today I’m conversing with Craig Randall, founder of Trust-Based Observations and expert in the art of supporting teachers in improving their practice. We go “pretty dang deep,” as Craig put it. Which is good, because classroom observations are super important and are too rarely done well.

Until now!

Listen now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts.

We discuss

• Building Trust: The wisdom of focusing on accumulating “trust marbles” before offering suggestions for improvement

• Strengths-Based Observations: The importance of battling the deficit mentality and emphasizing teachers’ strengths

• Coaching vs. Fixing: How to short-circuit the typical fix-them orientation

• The History of Teacher Observation: How we got here (hint: It’s partly A Nation at Risk’s fault!)

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Connect & Share

Got a story to share? Tell me a story of a disastrous observation! Or tell me about one that made you glow with confidence and happiness. Leave me a voicemail at (413) 239-4158 and we might feature your perspective in a future episode!

Support the Show: If this conversation resonated, please consider leaving a rating or review on your podcast app. Your feedback helps others find us.

Get full access to the community: www.teachingthroughemotions.com/subscribe

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External links

Trust-Based Observations (the book)

Trust-Based Observation (the website)

craig@trustbased.com

EMDR: Eye-Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing

Credits

Founder and Host: Betsy Burris

Co-Host: Joe Johnson

Producer: Jullian Androkae of PodVision

Audience Development: Andreea Coscai of PodVision

Music: Tom Burris/Jabbering Trout

I spent years as a teacher educator for pre-service teachers. I taught education courses and/or supervised student teachers at Stanford University, Dominican University, St. Mary’s College, Connecticut College, and Bennington College. I left that occupation behind in 2005, when I switched from straight teacher education to cockeyed psychodynamic teacher support, which is what I do now with TTE.

But the memories of teacher preparation have been revived by my daughter, who is currently in a MAT program and has been doing her student teaching stints this year.

In conversations with my daughter, through the lens of psychodynamics, a couple issues have emerged for me.

One. The whole student teaching thing actually breaks two interesting laws of healthy relationships.

Two. Classroom observations are devilishly difficult to do well.

This post is about Issue #1. The podcast episode that’s dropping in a couple days is about Issue #2.

Two laws of healthy relationships

The first law broken by the standard student teaching arrangement is Thou Shalt Not Breach Others’ Boundaries. The second law is Thou Shalt Not Triangulate.

Let me explain.

For those who don’t know or can’t remember (because you’ve blocked it out), student teaching involves getting assigned to (or finding) a veteran teacher who is willing to allow a student teacher into their classroom every day for a semester or so to observe, collaborate, and eventually take over teaching for a time.

Consider what this means for the veteran teacher, or the Cooperating Teacher (CT). In the fall, the CT is forging crucial relationships with their charges. This is when the classroom system coheres: when routines are established, norms are reinforced, chaos is abolished and order begins to (or is supposed to) reign. It’s when the teacher’s authority and mutual trust between teacher and students emerge naturally (one hopes). It’s when the membrane that defines each particular classroom organism is established. The classroom door closes: The outside world with all its distracting demands is shut out and the inside world begins to hum with its own personality and energy.

In the spring — unless it’s a whole new semester, in which case it’s like the fall all over again — classroom life has achieved an equilibrium. Possibly a tentative one. Possibly a volatile one. Possibly a highly satisfying one. In any case, the CT and the students have co-created a sense of each other and how they all work together. The classroom organism has a life of its own.

Now.

Enter a bright-eyed, enthusiastic, often young student teacher. Emphasis on the word “enter.” This student teacher walks into the CT’s classroom, blows a hole in the membrane, and introduces a whole new unpredictable element.

Definition of boundary breach.

And the CT’s job is to help this new element win the students’ hearts. Succeed at planning and implementing instruction. Develop a sense of authority independent of the CT’s. Learn the CT’s ropes but also flex their own creative muscles. Be the CT but also be themselves.

In short, the classroom now has three vertices: the CT, the students, and the student teacher. This is what I call Triangulation.

Triangles do not always foster the stablest of dynamics.

Let’s say the CT envies the student teacher’s rapport with the students. Or resents the student teacher’s confidence. Or fears the student teacher’s up-to-the-minute knowledge of educational theory or practices. Or feels anxious about their students’ academic progress or about the shredding of beautifully designed lessons at the hands of a novice teacher. Or hates giving up control. Or believes the student teacher is not respectful or submissive or subordinate enough to the CT’s experience and authority.

Or just feels invaded.

That’s where the triangulation comes in. The CT feels stressed about having a second adult in the room who is a budding teacher but also a rookie learner. The CT is constantly thinking about the pressure, which rests totally on her shoulders, to keep the students learning at an appropriate pace. But the CT cannot control the student teacher’s teaching. Which means the CT cannot control the learning outcomes. Which means the CT does shit, like interrupting the student teacher when they’re teaching, like criticizing anything the student teacher does that isn’t what the CT would do, like leaving the student teacher completely alone with the class, like taking over the class when the going gets tough (in the CT’s mind) to alleviate the CT’s anxiety — which creates anxiety in the student teacher.

Nice!

It is no wonder that student teachers can feel intimidated, uncertain, nervous, misunderstood, unseen, or condescended to by their CTs. It is no wonder that CTs can be overly critical or dismissive or controlling of their apprentices. The CT is ultimately responsible for their students’ learning but has to watch someone else teach them. Is this not a recipe for anxiety? Is anxiety not fuel for dysfunction?

When and where do CTs and student teachers learn how to manage the inevitable relational tensions inherent in this triangular relationship birthed in a major boundary breach? Ummm. Nowhere. They’re just expected to push through, figure stuff out as they go. Kinda like the way teachers of all stripes are expected to just deal when relational tensions arise with their students.

It’s fascinating — for me, anyway — to reconsider the standard student teaching arrangement as a weirdly unconscious setup that invites dysfunction and therefore can handicap student teachers’ learning.

Surely there’s a better way.

I would love to hear what you think. How was your student teaching stint? If it went smoothly, why? What were the conditions? If it went badly, what happened? What would have made the experience better for you?

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And, if you know a student teacher right this minute, please share this post. I’d love to hear from them!

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As always, thanks so much for reading.

I hate hate.

Just kidding! I love hate. Just like I love all emotions. Hatred is like love or excitement or joy or anger. It arises naturally for good reasons. And it means something. The question is what. I make some guesses in this rant.

Check it out.

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What do you hate? What might your hate mean? Do tell!

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It’s a trope in education: A teacher says, “I don’t teach math (or English or history); I teach kids.”

What interests me is that we would ever consider the two as inseparable.

What I would say instead is “Teachers don’t teach content or kids; they foster a sustainable relationship between the two.”

If we drew three points in space — the content, the student(s), and the teacher — they wouldn’t mean much. They’d exist in isolation from each other. Rich, complex ships passing in the night. Or something.

It’s when we draw lines between these points that the picture starts to make sense.

What do the lines represent? Relationships.

• The relationship between you (the teacher) and the kids.

• The relationship between you (the teacher) and the content.

• The relationship between the kids and the content.

And wherever there are relationships, there are emotions.

I love thinking about teaching as a Triangle. It’s so dynamic! And it draws our attention to the lines between rather than the dots at the vertices. It invites questions like

• What do my students already know about this subject matter?

• What do they want to know?

• How do they feel about the subject matter?

• How competent do they feel in the face of the subject matter?

• What’s my relationship with this content I’m teaching?

• What are my relationships with each of these students like?

Answering these questions and building the answers into your lesson design feels, to me, like a great recipe for tautness.

Tautness: the state of being taut.

Like a string that, when plucked, vibrates with sound and overtones.

Like a runner right before the sound of the starter gun.

Like a reader who can’t help turning the pages to find out what’s going to happen next.

Answering these questions makes it more likely that your students can be taut while being taught.

There’s the unmissable and (I daresay) original axiom!

Design instruction that compels students to be taut while being taught.

What would your lessons look like if they maximized student passion? suspense? excitement? If your lessons welcomed students’ emotions about the subject matter, including hatred, contempt, resistance? If you entered every classroom utterly psyched to be there with your lesson plan and the students, certain that something interesting (even if unexpected) would happen as the lines in your Teaching Triangle began to hum?

If you already teach this way, how do you do it? Please share! I’m sure there are some teachers out there who are dragging right about now and students who are slumping and slack.

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My wish for you and your students: Get tau[gh]t!

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In my experience, most teachers — hell, most people — don’t want to admit they hate anyone. “Hate,” they say, “is a strong word.”

As if there’s a problem with strong words. (Like “love,” for example.)

But people do hate. And when they hate irresponsibly, when they refuse to process that feeling and assume it has more to do with the object of their hatred than with themselves, they can do grave damage.

In this episode, Joe and I talk with a wonderfully open, self-aware teacher, storyteller, and entrepreneur who also happens to be a good friend of mine, Hari Kumar. It’s a great story about hate, teaching, self-correction, and hope.

Listen now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts.

We discuss

Teacher Sarcasm: Why it might be a red flag for teacher burnout

Teaching Philosophy: Hari’s four pillars of teaching, a pedagogical framework

Cat Shit vs. Bullshit: Which one does a teacher want?

Embracing “Almostness”: What to do with not knowing and how it can transform your student relationships

Teaching Community: Thinking about the support systems teachers need

Connect & Share

Got a story to share? What do you hate? I’d love to hear! Leave me a voicemail at (413) 239-4158 and we might feature your perspective in a future episode!

Support the Show: If this conversation resonated, please consider leaving a rating or review on your podcast app. Your feedback helps others find us.

Get full access to the community: www.teachingthroughemotions.com/subscribe

External links

bell hooks Teaching to Transgress

bell hooks Teaching Community

Those Who Can’t Teach Anymore

Credits

Founder and Host: Betsy Burris

Co-Host: Joe Johnson

Producer: Jullian Androkae of PodVision

Audience Development: Andreea Coscai of PodVision

Music: Tom Burris/Jabbering Trout

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When I feel used, I tend to get angry.

Which is a good thing. Because anger is a super-effective alarm. It is such a strong emotion that I can’t ignore it.

And so I wonder about it.

Usually anger alerts me to a boundary violation. An attempt by another person to take from me what I may not be willing to give. To use me.

Which means I need to consider whether and how.

Which first means I’d best retreat into my Garden and look around. From there I can consider whether I want to be used at all. Do I want to listen to this person talk endlessly about themselves right now? Yeah, OK. Do I want to be blamed for this person’s mistake? No. Do I want to accept this student’s late work? Yes. Do I want to stay in relationship with a narcissist? Well, since this one is my dad, yes.

Once I have decided whether to be used, I decide how I’m willing to proceed. Emphasis on willing.

• I’ll find interest in this needy, talkative person but give myself silent permission to bring the conversation to a close when I can no longer maintain a caring or curious stance.

• I’ll calmly and gracefully reject the blame. “I can tell you’re upset about this. I totally get it; it sucks to discover you’ve made a mistake. What are you going to do now?”

• I’ll accept the late work and impose agreed-upon consequences. If there are no agreed-upon consequences, I’ll discuss with my class what we’ll do about late work from now on.

• I’ll activate my compassion for my narcissistic dad and know my limits: that I will not be abused by narcissistic rage. That I will honor my own boundaries and speak my truth despite the inevitability of vicious retaliation, knowing the punishment has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the narcissist’s unbearable pain. That I will reserve the right to walk away for now or end the relationship for good. That I will not try to change the narcissist but rather will attempt to love and respect them by acknowledging how hard it is sometimes to be them. That I will refuse to conform to their reality, which ultimately isolates them, but instead will try to co-create a shared reality that is safe for both of us. Until all this is no longer possible.

The how is not pre-programmable. What matters, I believe, is making the decisions in your particular circumstances. Re-asserting your agency in your own life in the face of someone who would rather turn you into an object for their use. I call this Re-Subjectifying.

As humans, we get to do this over and over again: We get to decide whether we consent to be used and, if yes, to design the how to fit the circumstances. We are in charge of our contributions to our shared experiences.

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Guys, I have been running Teacher Support Groups for 20 years. About a third of my life. Never has formal research been done on the particular approach I take to teacher support. Until now!!!!

What is a TSG? It is a small group of teachers that meets weekly for 1.25 hours to talk about their teaching experiences. It’s a Professional Learning Community but with a twist: Our focus is on emotions and relationships, the stuff that causes pain in teachers’ hearts and keeps them up at night. The stuff no one talks formally about. The stuff of teacher lounge complaints. The stuff that leads to burnout.

This article, titled

Addressing educator emotion through a psychodynamic coaching support group

is by Kristabel Stark (with me, Brian Jones, and Parker Goss as co-authors). Kristabel is an assistant professor in the College of Education and Social Services at the University of Vermont in Burlington. She specializes in Special Education, and she has been interested in teacher emotion for years. She contacted me while she was still in her doctoral program, and we have been friends ever since.

Kristabel collected data from a total of 8 teachers who voluntarily formed TSGs with me in 2024 and 2025. She asked them questions about each support group meeting and surveyed them when the TSG “semester” of 8 weeks had ended. I had no access to the data, so the teachers could be honest (we hoped) about their experiences.

Here’s what Kristabel found:

• TSGs changed teachers’ emotional states. For the better. Teachers used words like re-centered, energized, lighter, more positive, encouraged, hopeful, reflective and enlightened to describe their feelings after the TSG meetings. They also reported that they understood their classroom experiences better and could empathize with their colleagues’ experiences, which sometimes led to more emotions like sadness — which often comes with empathy.

• TSGs increased emotional awareness and literacy. Teachers reported learning new terms and frames that helped them understand their teaching experiences. They also really benefited from being together. They validated each other’s emotions and discouraged negative self-judgment. As one participant put it, “We are often miserable but not alone.”

• TSGs helped refine strategies for emotionally intense interpersonal interactions. Teachers gained valuable perspective on student and adult behavior, learning to see it as data conveying important information about the student or adult. This insight translated, they said, into changes in their own behaviors that allowed them to interact more mindfully, strategically, and effectively with their relational partners.

• TSGs forged stronger collegial support networks. This is so important: Teachers felt connected to each other, more bonded. And the flip side: They felt less isolated and siloed. The validation they offered each other helped dispel self-doubt and second-guessing and strengthened their trust in their own instincts and decisions.

A great summative quote:

I feel strongly that this type of program should become standard practice for schools…I think integrating this type of practice into standard teaching practices would be remarkably beneficial.

Amen.

I want to end by thanking Kristabel, Brian Jones, and Parker Goss for their belief in the work of TTE and their excellent work on this article. It’s a really enjoyable read, which is not something I can say for most academic pieces!

I also want to thank the eight brave teachers who agreed to do this study. You know who you are. It was a pleasure to work with you.

Actually, running TSGs is always a pleasure for me. I always fall in love with the teachers who join, and I’m always — always always always — surprised and moved by their courage, vulnerability, and wisdom.

Oh! And by their stories of success! Because teachers’ discoveries in TSGs affect students for the better, too.

Want to join a TSG? Let me know.

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This one’s for the leaders.

In this episode, I talk with a most amazing psychotherapist and “Leadership Whisperer,” Jerry Fromm. Jerry does organizational consulting, which means he helps people figure out (as I put it) what the hell is happening psychodynamically within their walls — or within their societies! or countries! since he works with individuals and groups domestically and internationally as well. He does quite remarkable work and tells lots of fascinating stories in today’s conversation, stories that will make teachers and school leaders think differently about themselves and the school cultures they’re a part of.

Many schools are rethinking their cultures. But I promise you: Jerry’s perspective will make you think in a way you could never have imagined.

Listen now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts.

We discuss

• The Clinical Is Missing: A simple and amazing definition of “clinical” makes Jerry’s (and TTE’s) psychodynamic work relevant to schools.

• The Sentient Level of Organizations: How, in the psychological dynamics of systems, contagious unprocessed feelings define the school culture.

• Playing Roles: Managing the “invitations flying around” all organizations to fit with others in familiar ways.

• Different Types of Organizations: What are narcissistic organizations? What are dependent organizations?

• The Power of Pictures: What drawing a picture of your organization with you in it can reveal.

External Links

For information on Group Relations Conferences and Leading from Experience, go to The Center for the Study of Groups and Social Systems.

To get in touch with Jerry, email him at gerard.fromm@austenriggs.net.

Yep, I’m biased: I am certain that teaching is spiritual. Not because teachers need to be religious but because the tasks of teaching human beings require heart-based skills: faith, care, love, “unconditional positive regard for difference” — skills that do not necessarily come naturally all the time and therefore demand care and attention themselves.

In this episode, I explore this question and others with Mark Longhurst, an inspiring pastor, writer, and publications manager for Richard Rohr’s Center for Action and Contemplation. Together, we explore how to view teaching (and parenting) not just as a task list, but as a spiritual practice.

Listen now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts.

We discuss:

• Flowing with chaos: How to stay grounded when the classroom (or home) feels out of control.

• The “holy ordinary”: Why the most mundane moments hold the most spiritual weight.

• Detachment for connection: The paradox of detaching from our “teacher identity” to develop healthy attachment with students.

• Somatic teaching: The importance of bringing a “settled body” into the classroom.

• Sacred spaces: The benefits, and perils, of viewing your classroom as holy ground.

External Links

the holy ordinary by Mark Longhurst (Substack)

The Holy Ordinary: A Way to God (Book)

My Grandmother’s Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies by Resmaa Menakem

Fierce Love: A Bold Path to Ferocious Courage and Rule-Breaking Kindness that Can Heal the World by Dr. Jacqui Lewis

Connect & Share

Got a story to share? Leave me a voicemail at (413) 239-4158 and we might feature your perspective in a future episode!

Support the Show: If this conversation resonated, please consider leaving a rating or review on your podcast app. Your feedback helps others find us.

Get full access to the community: [www.teachingthroughemotions.com/subscribe]

Credits

Founder and Host: Betsy Burris

Co-Host: Joe Johnson

Producer: Jullian Androkae of PodVision

Audience Development: Andreea Coscai of PodVision

Music: Tom Burris/Jabbering Trout

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Teaching through Emotions is all about teachers. That middle class between students, who obviously have needs and demands, and admin, who also have needs and demands.

Different needs and demands from each group.

Students, of course, need to grow and develop. They’re learning, which means they’re changing, which means they’re taking risks that might make them very uncomfortable and therefore resistant. Teachers’ responsibility to students is to support this growth and development. Like parents, they are developmental partners, people who know what it’s like to make it through the school learning process and are trained to help students succeed at it.

The needs and demands from admin are different. Administrators need teachers to provide the data that will keep funding coming and state and federal regulators off their backs. Forgive me for the over-simplification, but it does seem to me that administrators are dependent for their sense of success and well-being on other people. Namely teachers. Whom they can’t control. Which, I imagine, leads to some strong emotions.

Frustration. Fear. Panic. Loneliness.

Teachers can’t control their students. Of course. No one can control anyone but themselves. But at least teachers are in the same room with their charges. They can have real-time, long-term relationships with them. They can get to know their students, their habits, their preferences, their strengths, their weaknesses. They can try experiments with them and see immediate results. Theirs is a world of bodies and behaviors and lived reality.

Administrators’ worlds seem to me to be much more abstract. They deal with numbers and policies and missions. They put out fires that they didn’t start and had no part in. They straddle many different worlds: the classroom and parents, boards of education and the realities of school (teachers’ realities, paras’ realities, staffs’ realities, students’ realities), legal mandates and federal decisions and, again, realities on the ground. All from their offices or the conference room or, if they’re lucky, from a few classroom observations or fast walks down the halls.

I’m probably totally wrong in my imaginings about administrators’ lives. My point is simply this: I’m guessing administrators have emotions. Sometimes even debilitating emotions. I’m guessing some administrators are in danger of burning out just as their teachers are. Or they’re in danger of becoming impatient with or contemptuous of their teachers or the students they serve or the parents who can’t stop nagging and complaining.

Which would be totally normal.

TTE works with teachers, yes. But it also works with leaders. Who are human. And need support, too. Who can grow and develop through the shitshows of their jobs, which they contribute to because of the ways they fit with the world. The needs and expectations and beliefs that they bring along with them, unconsciously, that determine how they view and do their jobs. That lead them into burnout or heartburn or insomnia or Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

TTE can help leaders, too.

Contact us.

This is actually an advertisement for the podcast episode that’s dropping on Thursday. It’s a conversation with an organizational consultant, someone who works with leaders to figure out what’s going on dynamically in their workplaces. He’s brilliant and will surprise you with the amazing stories he tells of his work. The quote in today’s title comes from a leader he worked with.

You can contact him, too.

But you have to tune in on Thursday!

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I just read an article from The Hechinger Report with the provocative title

Biting, kicking, wandering the classroom:

Teachers say there’s a rise in misbehavior even among the littlest kids

This article was written by Jackie Mader and was published on February 17, so it’s been sitting on my computer screen for over a month. Why? Because anyone with half an ear tuned to education knows this is true. So it wasn’t actually news to me. And I doubt it’s news to you.

But UHHH. It makes me really sad. I know how exhausting it is for teachers at any level to manage outrageous student behavior. I know how easily this part of the job leads to burnout, and I know this is the Season of Burnout for too many teachers.

I’m heartened that schools and the organizations that support them are starting to address teachers’ needs around student behaviors. And I know that teachers aren’t therapists or social workers.

But they are what I call developmental partners, now more than ever. Developmental partners are the people charged with helping humans develop and grow healthily. Like parents. Like nannies and babysitters. Like teachers at all levels.

Raising humans is not just about delivering content, whether related to subject matter or household rules or social-emotional learning. Raising humans means being in healthy relationship with them. In actual practice. At all levels.

It doesn’t appear to me, though, that many schools or supporting organizations are explicitly thinking about the practice of everyday relationships. And the emotions that arise in teachers as a result of those relationships.

But preventing bad behaviors and managing burnout, in my experience, means examining negative emotions boldly and transforming them into plans of action that address foundational student needs and, yes: strengthen relationships. Which precludes the eruption of bad behavior.

All it takes is one hour a week with a few other teachers and a trained facilitator.

I’ve got the trained facilitators.

Where are the teachers?

If you are in pain, if you are crispy from burnout or sliding down the slippery slope towards burnout, if you love your job but don’t think you can go on, please. Try a Teacher Support Group.

For free.

Send me your name and contact information at betsy@teachingthroughemotions.com. Or at 413.239.4158. These channels are completely confidential. I’ll get back to you to get scheduling information and, if we get enough teachers, I’ll organize an online TSG (so anyone anywhere can participate). Questions? Please send them along. I’ll answer them.

Got a few friends who are feeling the way you are? Invite them! Create your own TSG!

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I swear to you: A TSG will change your life. If it doesn’t, you’ll get your money back. Which will be $0 because this experiment costs you nothing. Time, yes. And your time is precious. But so is your health. It’s worth finding some precious time to inoculate your precious self against burnout. And maybe even bring your joy back.

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On the face of it, having a Teaching Assistant or any adult in the classroom is a boon, right? The more adults, the more expert help students can get, the better.

In theory, yes.

In practice, having a TA or an adult helper can feel like having too many chefs in the kitchen. Because it’s another person to manage — and that person is more likely to have ideas of their own about how to teach and manage students. Ideas that might not dovetail completely with the lead teacher’s. Which means more work for the lead teacher to either orient that adult every day or clean up after them. Or both.

In this episode, Joe and I talk with Sarah, a university Spanish teacher whose school has gifted her with a TA every semester for the past 10 years — and she’s still figuring out how to make the best use of the resource.

Listen now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts.

We discuss

• Mentoring TAs: Figuring out how to teach a teacher while simultaneously teaching students

• Sharing Expertise: Co-teaching as a unique source of information and wisdom

• Bridging Cultural Gaps: Managing a TA’s discomfort with your teaching style or philosophy

• Overcoming Student Anxiety: Planning ways to encourage students to make use of a TA effectively

It’s a really fun conversation! With a surprising axiom at the end that everyone should heed.

Got a story to share? Leave me a voicemail at (413) 239-4158 and we might feature your perspective in a future episode!

Support the Show: If this conversation resonated, please consider leaving a rating or review on your podcast app. Your feedback helps others find us.

Get full access to the community: [www.teachingthroughemotions.com/subscribe]

Credits

Founder and Host: Betsy Burris

Co-Host: Joe Johnson

Producer: Jullian Androkae of PodVision

Audience Development: Andreea Coscai of PodVision

Music: Tom Burris/Jabbering Trout

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Back when I was an active psychotherapist, I developed a kind of sub-specialty: divorce. Turns out I was really good at helping my clients divorce their partners.

What did I do?

• I supported my clients in examining the roles they played in their marriages that perpetuated their misery.

• We looked for relational patterns from their families of origin that my clients were re-enacting with their current partners.

• I helped my clients make sense of the data they were gathering about themselves, their partners, and the fit they co-created between them.

• We came up with experiments my clients were willing to try with their partners, experiments like describing their experience, sharing the impact those experiences had on them, asking for what they wanted or needed, asking their partners what it was like to be them, trying new fits.

When partners were open to these efforts, marriages got stronger. When partners resisted these efforts because they apparently preferred the status quo even if it made their loved one miserable, divorce ensued. Sad for the marriage. Happy for my clients.

Weirdly, when I work with teachers who are unhappy with their partners — namely, schools — divorce rarely occurs. Rather, even teachers who are crispy from burnout or determined to quit today find a way not just to stick with teaching but to thrive. Why might that be?

I suspect it’s because, for many teachers, their jobs involve throwing themselves on the rocks of all the people they’re supposed to serve. Going the extra mile for their students, whom they love and entered the profession to help, perhaps even to save. Saying yes to every assignment offered to them by admin. Taking parents’ anxiety about their kids personally and bending over backwards to accommodate to them. Isolating themselves from their colleagues because who has the freakin’ time to talk?

Then, when teachers get burned out, they blame the rocks.

Yes, sure. People can really suck. And systems can suck, maybe even more. These rocks can leave teachers cut and bloody.

But who threw themselves on the rocks in the first place?

The work I do with teachers is the same work I did with my psychotherapy clients. We examine the roles they play, the (dysfunctional) relational patterns they enact not just with students, colleagues, admin, and parents but with the system itself. Because teachers, like my clients, are human and bring those patterns with them wherever they go.

We gather data that suggests what’s going wrong and what changes need to be made. And we come up with experiments the teachers can try that will either shift the relationships that are making them miserable or yield more interesting data about those relationships. Which we can fold into another, more refined experiment.

Gaining this perspective, which the teachers I work with who are immersed in the shit cannot provide for themselves, relieves them. They understand their experiences in totally new ways. They feel seen, heard, and cared for. They feel empowered to transform their daily experiences because their successful experiments show them they are empowered. Teachers who are in Teacher Support Groups, the best form of educator support I know, feel embraced and accepted by colleagues they would never have talked to before. And they seek these colleagues out once they’ve begun working with them.

You ready to quit? I totally understand. I’m super sorry that so many amazing teachers are leaving the profession. But whatever you do, don’t join a TSG. Because you might just figure out a sustainable and even joyful way to stay.

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And we got a comment about it!!! Thank you, Carrie!!!

In today’s rant I share some thoughts about the gendered nature of ego. They’re my thoughts, but I would love to hear yours! You might totally disagree with…

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Sometimes I wake up of a morning and think, “How would I feel if I had to go to work today and stand in front of 25-40 children with 25-40 different parents and home lives in waves that keep crashing on me every 44 minutes?”

I groan and turn over in bed.

If you are not a teacher, please dwell in my early morning question for a minute.

Sure, I know you’ve got worries of your own. And I hope you have wrapped around you supports that help you manage them, even turn them into strengths and points of pride.

But teaching is a pretty unfathomably unique situation if you really think about it.

Given the uniquely unfathomable nature of teaching, I often wonder what type of person goes into this profession. If I use myself as an example, it’s fair to say one type is the Savior. The person who thinks she can and should save the world. And has no needs. Who pours out love and care and attention on everyone around her but reveals no vulnerabilities of her own.

I am now a psychotherapist (perhaps an even more extreme version of the Savior) turned psycho-coach (less extreme, thank god), so I’m no longer in a traditional classroom. But I’m working with teachers. And the reluctance to take advantage of the relieving help that is sometimes handed to teachers amazes me.

Here’s my worry: That a driving force in at least some teachers is what is called “pathological caretaking.”

• putting others’ needs before your own (your own needs? what needs?)

• having no needs

• being the most competent person in the room (“If it’s going to get done right, I have to do it”)

• feeling indispensable

• feeling guilty for putting yourself first

• stopping yourself from doing what’s right for you (taking a day off? leaving the profession?) for fear of others’ disapproval

• running from any offers of help because they imply you are weak or imperfect or something else that is very bad

Pathological caretaking, while seemingly virtuous, is ultimately painful. It harms teachers. It easily leads to burnout, which is, in my view, a terrifying condition. And which, paradoxically, prevents teachers from getting the help they need — like joining a Teacher Support Group — because doing one more thing feels impossible. And, I’m guessing, because pathological caretakers cannot imagine that participating in an activity might do anything other than place more demands on them and deplete their already nonexistent energy even more.

For pathological caretakers, nothing involving other people can regenerate or heal them because just being with other people activates their pathology. See how that works? (I still struggle with this problem.)

But here’s the rub: Pathological caretaking isn’t just bad for teachers. It’s terrible for students. The last thing they need from their teachers is fusion — “your emotions and problems are my emotions and problems” — co-optation — “I’ll do your work for you” — messages of incompetence — “You can’t do it but I can and will” — guilt — “I’m a bad person because I don’t want to or don’t know how to deal with you” — or wholesale objectification — “these kids are lost causes and there’s nothing I can do about it” (More about the horrifying manifestations of teacher burnout in a future post.)

At bottom, pathological caretaking is all about the caretaker. Not about the students at all. And, when taken to its limit, pathological caretaking deprives students of the energized, hopeful, creative, even joyful presence of people they desperately need to be healthy.

I’m here to say that Teacher Support Groups are places where pathological caretakers — and others — can rest. TSGs are not demanding or depleting. Rather, they are reviving. Even healing. But hell, why should I say it? Listen to your colleagues from all over:

“It’s a safe space to discuss issues without judgement.”

“TSGs are a safe, nurturing space in which issues, ideas and wins can be shared, listened to and cared about.”

“I love the community and strategies to help make my way through the complex feelings you have as a teacher.”

“Working with you this year has been transformative for our staff, me, and the school. You have made a huge positive difference in our lives and the work that we do.”

“I can't express how much your support groups and workshops have changed my teaching life for the better.”

‘Tis the season, my friends. The season of burnout. I worry about you. I worry that you’re looking at what seem to be undeniable facts of your matter — that your school is a pit or the system sucks or you’re crispy and simply cannot go on — without addressing the controllable underlying forces that keep you in a dysfunctional relationship with teaching.

It doesn’t have to be that way. Relationships can change.

Contact me.

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In this episode, I’m joined by Carol Garboden Murray, director of the Wimpfheimer Laboratory Nursery School at Vassar College. She is a lifelong lover of the youngest children, ages 0 - 5, and thinks a lot about what it means to teach and care for them. Early childhood education, care, and love are very dear to my heart. I know that teachers of young children have special skills and talents that teachers at all levels should consider and adopt. I hope this interview inspires you to think about and adopt them for yourself!

Listen now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts.

We discuss:

• Caring for vs. caring about: Why “caring about” social justice or education is easy, but the actual, physical labor of fostering healthy development is where the real work happens.

• The neuroscience of caring: How high-level empathy is a blend of neurological functioning and intuitive, creative practice.

• Limits of caring: An honest look at what happens when caregiving stops being “beautiful” and starts being exhausting.

• Professional Love: Defining a radical framework for love in the classroom that goes beyond “niceness.”

External Links

• Carol’s Website

• Carol’s book, Illuminating Care: The Pedagogy and Practice of Care in Early Childhood Communities

Mentioned in this episode

• TTE episode with Sarah Becker: Pre-school teachers have it right: Professional Love

• Caring: A Feminine Approach to Ethics and Moral Education by Nel Noddings

• The Real Wealth of Nations by Riane Eisler

• The Chalice and the Blade by Riane Eisler

• A Different Voice by Carol Gilligan

• Awakening the Inner Eye: Intuition in Education by Nel Noddings with Paul J. Shore

• I and Thou by Martin Buber

Carol mentions other thinkers without specifying publications. If you’re curious about any of them, get in touch and I’ll ask Carol for links.

Connect & Share

Got a story to share? Is “Professional Love” a term you’ve used in your school? Or does the idea of “Radical Love” feel a bit too intense for the classroom? I’d love to hear your thoughts. Leave me a voicemail at (413) 239-4158 and we might feature your perspective in a future episode!

Support the Show: If this conversation resonated, please consider leaving a rating or review on your podcast app. Your feedback helps others find us.

Get full access to the community: [www.teachingthroughemotions.com/subscribe]

Credits

Founder and Host: Betsy Burris

Co-Host: Joe Johnson

Producer: Jullian Androkae of PodVision

Audience Development: Andreea Coscai of PodVision

Music: Tom Burris/Jabbering Trout

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Carol Garboden Murray is director of the Wimpfheimer Laboratory Nursery School at Vassar College. She is a lifelong lover of the youngest children, ages 0 - 5, and thinks a lot about what it means to teach and care for them. These topics — early childhood education, care, and love — are very dear to my heart. I know that teachers of young children have …

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Why? Because toxic positivity is denial. It’s willfully going blind on a huge part of every teacher’s daily experience. Teachers experience negative emotions not because they’re failures or bad at their jobs. But because their jobs are extremely difficult. Because students and parents and colleagues and administrators are unpredictable and uncontrollable and therefore likely to frustrate and anger and disappoint. Totally normal. Totally natural.

Toxic positivity pretends this natural part of teaching (and living) doesn’t or shouldn’t exist. OH MY GOD. It’s like grown-ass adults believe in genies. If you think or say anything bad you’re rubbing a genie lamp. Out will come a terrible monster! It will gobble up the good and fill the world with darkness and despair!

As you know by now, Teaching through Emotions is all about embracing the negative. Because I know that negative emotions, while they might not feel great, carry a helluva lot of accurate information about a teacher’s internal state, their self-defeating beliefs and behavioral patterns, and the state of their relationships with students. All of which has a direct impact on teachers’ teaching and students’ learning.

Using negative emotions to access all this and make things right is what TTE and Teacher Support Groups do. And it works. Which is why I’m constantly encouraging teachers to bring out their rottenest feelings and plop them on the table. So we can do alchemy on them. And provide welcome relief.

But I get it: Teachers are reluctant to share the negative. They do have negative feelings, of that I’m certain. But they’d rather share their successes, their positive experiences, their good work.

I’m guessing you, dear reader, would rather share your successes, too.

So let’s call a moratorium on negativity! As of this moment, TTE suspends its focus on the negative and invites all teachers to share the positive!

For a week.

Please, share your successes in the comments

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or on the TTE hotline.

413.239.4158.

I would love to hear them and trumpet them! Let’s celebrate the miracle of teaching!!

Tell us about how you turned around a disruptive student. Or managed a chaotic classroom. Or got back in your effin’ Garden and experienced the salutary effects of respectful boundaries. Anything!

Right about now we all need to share and hear some good news.

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