What teachers really need to carry and what to let go
Sandra holds a special place in my teaching story. She was my teacher assistant during my first year as a teacher. I was brand new to the classroom, and she helped me tremendously as I learned the realities of teaching a room full of bright-eyed 5-year-olds.
Silver
She knew the rhythms of a classroom that I was still learning. She knew when to step in, when to let me figure something out, and probably when to quietly take care of something before I even realized it needed taking care of.
Sandra eventually became a teacher herself. The other day, I saw a post she shared on Facebook about cleaning out her classroom. She had bins and totes everywhere; books scattered around the room and years’ worth of classroom supplies pulled out of closets and cabinets. She said she had already thrown away five trash bags and still had tons left to donate.
I smiled because I knew exactly how all that stuff had accumulated. Teachers are really good at holding on to things because we might need that someday.
But as I looked at her pictures, I kept thinking about how good it was going to feel when she was finished. Lighter.
And not just the classroom.
I spent many years in the classroom, and I know how much teachers carry. Some of it is easy to see. There are the books we’ve collected, the manipulatives we bought with our own money, bins full of supplies, decorations we’ve carefully stored, old lesson plans and that one box we haven’t opened in years but still can’t quite bring ourselves to throw away.
Then there are the things that don’t fit inside a tote.
The expectations
Somewhere along the way, it started to feel like classrooms needed to be Pinterest-worthy. Perfectly coordinated bulletin boards, elaborate themes, beautiful reading corners, clever door decorations, matching labels and picture-perfect displays became one more thing teachers felt like they needed to do.
There is nothing wrong with wanting a beautiful classroom. I loved creating a space that felt welcoming and special for my students. But a beautiful classroom and a good classroom aren’t necessarily the same thing.
So, from a former teacher to all of you getting ready for another school year, it is okay to lighten the load.
Throw away the dried-up markers. Donate the books no one has touched in years. Let go of the curriculum materials you know you’ll never use again. And you really don’t need seventeen plastic containers just because they’re good containers. If you’ve ever been a teacher, you know exactly the containers I’m talking about.
While you’re cleaning out the closets, maybe think about some of the other things you’ve been carrying too.
You don’t have to volunteer for everything. Every lesson doesn’t have to be unforgettable. You don’t have to stay later than everyone else or spend your own money trying to recreate the classroom you saw online. You don’t have to keep doing something simply because you’ve always done it.
Your classroom doesn’t have to be Pinterest-worthy to be worthy of the kids who walk through its door.
They need a teacher who sees them. Someone who notices when they’re unusually quiet, celebrates when something finally clicks, knows when they need encouragement and when they need a little push. They need a classroom where it’s okay to get an answer wrong, ask a question, laugh, learn and try again.
Years from now, most of your students won’t remember what was on your bulletin board. They won’t remember whether your storage bins matched or whether you changed your door decoration every month.
But they may remember that yours was the classroom where they felt like they belonged. They may remember the day you noticed they were struggling. They may remember that you believed in them before they believed in themselves.
Most of all, they may remember how you made them feel.
That is the stuff worth carrying.
And I don’t think this is only a lesson for teachers.
We all have our own version of Sandra’s classroom. Closets, cabinets and corners filled with things we’ve kept because we might need them someday. But we also carry expectations, commitments, habits and responsibilities that have been with us for so long that we don’t stop to ask whether we still need them.
Sometimes we keep doing things because we’ve always done them. Sometimes we say yes because we’ve always been the person who says yes. Sometimes we’re working really hard to meet an expectation that no one actually asked us to meet.
We can get so focused on adding more, doing more, accomplishing more and becoming more that we forget there is also value in letting go.
Tending a good life isn’t always about adding something new. Sometimes it means making room.
I imagine Sandra’s classroom is going to feel very different when those trash bags are gone and the donations have found new homes. Maybe she’ll be able to find what she actually needs a little easier. Maybe she’ll have some empty shelves for once.
But I think the best part will simply be the feeling of having less to carry.
So as another school year begins, that’s my wish for every teacher walking back into a classroom.
Keep what helps you teach.
Keep what brings you joy.
Keep the things that remind you why you chose this work in the first place.
And give yourself permission to put down some of the rest. You don’t have to fill the space you create with something else. Maybe for a little while, you just enjoy having room to breathe.
Brandi Silver is a suburban Half Homestead Dreamer learning to grow a softer, more grounded life.
