Overcoming Teacher Burnout in Early Childhood: Strategies for Change

Introduction

I AM AN EARLY CHILDHOOD EDUCATOR. Some people balk at calling family child care providers early childhood educators. For many of my years as a family child care provider, the lack of respect for my position made me feel like a bottom-feeder in the early education world. I felt that I ranked lower than my peers who worked in special education, center-based programs, or public schools. It took me many years to realize that all of us doing this job are fighting the same fight. We are all trying to get children and families what they need to be successful. Negativity about the work I do; about my own self-worth; and about the lack of advocacy for children, families, and early education as a whole is a burden that not only I but many early educators have carried. This burden contributes to stress, burnout, and low morale for all kinds of early educators—not just family child care providers.

My Story

I have been exploring stress, burnout, and low morale in the field of early education for twenty-five years. The beginning of my story as an educator is important because this profession was not my life plan. A career in early childhood education had never entered my mind.

My professional life started out in dentistry. I had an excellent full-time job as a dental assistant and front office coordinator. I enjoyed it immensely. I was fulfilled, I felt appreciated, I found the work challenging and interesting, and I had built strong friendships. What more could I want from my profession?

During my time as a dental assistant, from the mid-1980s to the early 1990s, I became plagued by constant sneezing, upper respiratory issues, and skin woes. At that time, all the dentists, hygienists, and assistants used powdered latex gloves. When the staff would remove their gloves, the powder would explode into the air, which would cause me to break out in hives and become a sneezy, blotchy-faced mess. My allergist confirmed what we all feared: I was severely allergic to latex, and my allergy was not going to get better. In fact, repeatedly exposing an allergic person to this type of allergen just worsens the symptoms.

In an attempt to reduce my symptoms, I began working only at the front desk. My days started out well. I would come in mostly clearheaded each morning. (But I was never entirely clearheaded because allergies are cumulative; every exposure makes the allergy a little worse.) Usually by midday my eyes would become bright red, and I would start sneezing. The more movement there was in the office and the more dentists and hygienists were working, the worse I would react. I would arrive home each night after work exhausted, with hands so irritated that only immersing them in ice water would relieve them.

In the meantime, I had gotten married, had my first child, and placed her in child care. I had to go back to work six weeks after giving birth. I had no paid maternity or family leave. Someone else in the office had to work sixty to seventy hours a week to cover my maternity leave. When I did return, I had no place to pump breast milk, and my time was ruled by the dentists’ schedules.

When our daughter was a year old, my husband and I found out we were expecting our son. While I was home on maternity leave with him, I had eight weeks of healthy breathing and skin. This respite helped me realize that my allergies had become a hindrance to my everyday life. At work I could not get through a conversation without sneezing three times. I came home from work completely wiped out. In addition, my child care was mediocre at best, and I was making just enough to pay for child care and groceries. My husband and I reevaluated our finances and our life balance. We decided that it was time to change the course of our family life. We determined that I would return to work at the dental office in January 1994 to give an eight-week notice. I would start a family child care program in mid-March 1994.

I left the job I loved with a heavy heart and many tears. However, I was ready to take back my health and set out on a new adventure. I had big plans for my child care program. I was going to be way better than mediocre at best. I was not going to be any of the things that I hated as a working parent with her child in child care. I was going to be an excellent communicator. I would never close without sufficient notice. I would follow all the rules. These things I knew. I was very sure of myself.

Here are some real-life facts I found out quickly about my new career that first year:

PERCEPTION: I thought I was going to do child care temporarily to meet the financial needs of my family, and when both children went off to kindergarten, I would get a different job.

REALITY: Well, that didn’t happen. I did meet my family’s financial needs, but I also discovered that child care was more than a job. This work was a profession. I learned that I could advocate for children and families, feel empowered, and be a real leader. Like many early childhood educators, I didn’t see myself as an advocate right away. It took time. But once I found my voice, I didn’t want to give it up.

PERCEPTION: I thought I would not fall in love with other people’s children.

REALITY: Boy, was I wrong! I have fallen in love with every child who has walked through my door. It is impossible for me not to fall in love with the children in my care when I spend forty-plus hours each week with them, watching them grow and learn. So there. I am going to love the children. I am going to get attached to them, and hopefully they will connect with me. Children need to have healthy attachments with adult caregivers.

PERCEPTION: I vowed that I would be better than mediocre, because I know what a working parent goes through emotionally and physically.

REALITY: I think I succeeded. I was (and am) better than mediocre. I think we can all strive for that by starting small and simply aiming above the average.

PERCEPTION: I thought that taking care of my own kids would be a piece of cake.

REALITY: It wasn’t. In fact, my own children were probably the most stressful to care for. They owned me, and they were not going to let anyone else hold their real estate. They were kind to other children. They shared their belongings and had their space to escape. It’s just that I was stretched thin, and they knew that. It was hard on them, and it was hard on me. I was new in my field and had no experience. When my kids went to elementary school, my job got easier.

PERCEPTION: I thought that anyone could do child care.

REALITY: They can’t. They really, really cannot! No! It takes a special combination of personality, skills, and knowledge. It would have helped me a lot if I had taken child development courses before opening my program. That would have given me a better understanding of all the needs my children were experiencing.

It is no wonder I have learned what burnout is. I guess that’s what I get for going into early education with no experience, thinking I had it all figured out.

I know better now. I eventually realized it was imperative for me to get my Child Development Associate (CDA) credential, so that families would feel reassured that I knew a little something about child development. This credential proved that I had some knowledge. I became more and more involved in local associations, networks, and state-level meetings, which helped tremendously in building my knowledge. Over time I became well educated and began to really understand why kids do the things they do. I learned early childhood theory and practice and the importance of being a lifelong learner.

About twenty-five years later, I am still here. My children went off to kindergarten, high school, college, careers, and marriage. I went back to school later in life to get my bachelor’s degree in human services with a focus on early childhood education from Springfield College.

Throughout my early childhood education career, I have felt burnout and low morale many times. I am a small business owner, and I am the sole proprietor. I have a responsibility to support my family through good times and bad. My husband and I are both self-employed. My husband owns a construction company. At the height of the Great Recession back in 2008, life was difficult for us, but my salary proved to be imperative. I was unhappy during that period in my life. I was tired. I never looked forward to my days with children.

What is more, living and working through the seasons in Vermont is no easy feat! Vermont has five distinct seasons: autumn, winter, mud season, spring, and summer. Winter is the longest season. The days are short, and the weather is cold through late April. Although Vermont has glorious landscapes, it is not for the fainthearted or thin-blooded. The prolonged lack of sunlight and the cold are hard to handle sometimes.

When I am getting burned out, everything is a chore (including caring for the children I love), and nothing seems right (including the weather). If I start to feel this way, I know that something needs to change.

About seven years ago, I finally found the right formula to keep my fire lit. It consists of wellness, education, balance, and optimism. I didn’t figure this out quickly or easily. It has been a journey that has fulfilled me in unexpected ways. I have met remarkable, empowering people who have changed how I view myself and how I live each day. I have learned that I have choices in my life. I have chosen to stay close to those who inspire me, make me laugh, see my potential, and push me to be a better version of myself. I have also seen a therapist, and that relationship has helped me understand how important perception is. How others perceive a situation and how I perceive it might not agree, and neither is necessarily true. This slight shift in my thinking has been essential to my growth. I’ve learned that boosting my own morale and avoiding burnout requires a multifaceted approach.

The Problem of Teacher Burnout

In the teaching profession, and many other professions that deal directly with people, we often hear, I am just so burned out from this job. I have heard this more times than I can count. I