Dear We Are Teachers,
I have an 8th grade student who, over the last month or so, is increasingly in the counselor’s office during my class. Sometimes she asks to leave during class, sometimes she returns with a pass from the counselor, and sometimes I get an email from the counselor letting me know she’s in her office. Obviously, I’m behind any support this student needs, but she’s failing from being out of class so much. I’ve spoken to the student about her missing assignments to no avail. I know the next step is reaching out to parents, but I’m hesitant to bring it up to them in case they don’t know (or are the reason why) she’s been seeing the counselor. What would you do?
—Torn Between Care and Curriculum
Dear T.B.C.A.C.,
We hear you. This situation is as delicate as it is frustrating.
First of all, you’re not wrong for noticing the impact of this student’s absences on her academic performance. You’re also wise to approach the parent situation with caution. It’s not uncommon for a student’s counseling visits to be closely tied to what’s happening at home. And it’s not our role to dig into what’s confidential.
Here’s a path forward that respects boundaries but still advocates for your student’s learning:
- Loop in the counselor directly. You might say something like, “I want to make sure we’re aligned on how to best support [student] academically while also honoring her emotional needs. Would you be open to collaborating on a plan to help her catch up?” This gives the counselor a chance to share any context they can (or can’t), and it frames the issue as teamwork, not a complaint. The counselor can also give you insight on whether—and how—to approach parents.
- Offer flexibility—but not invisibility. If the student’s well-being is impacting her ability to engage in regular classwork, maybe she could do a modified version of the assignments or meet during advisory/study hall to check in. Sometimes just knowing a teacher is in their corner can motivate students to re-engage.
- Document with care. Not in a “cover your butt” way (though let’s be real—also that) but so that if conversations with parents or admin come up, you’ve got a clear picture of what’s been happening. Stick to the facts: missed assignments, dates of absences, any communication attempts.
You’re walking the line beautifully—don’t let guilt convince you you’re doing less than you are.
Dear We Are Teachers,
I’m devastated. I’ve just been told that my contract isn’t being renewed for next year, and while no one said it outright, it’s clear the reason is my extended absence. I had a cancer diagnosis midyear and was out for several months recovering. I’ve always been a dedicated 1st grade teacher, and I came back as soon as I was cleared—but the tone changed when I returned. I wasn’t included in planning meetings, decisions were made without me, and now this. I’m trying to stay professional, but it feels like I’m being punished for having a health crisis I couldn’t control. Is there anything I can do, or do I just have to move on?
—Benched by Biology
Dear B.B.B.,
This hurts, and it should. What’s happening is wrong.
Let’s say what your admin didn’t: We’re so glad you’re here. Surviving cancer is no small thing. Returning to the classroom—physically, mentally, emotionally—after that kind of trauma is herculean. And to be greeted with exclusion and silence? That’s not just unkind—it’s potentially discriminatory.
So, let’s break it down:
- Know your rights. Under the Americans With Disabilities Act (ADA) and the Family and Medical Leave Act (FMLA), you are entitled to certain protections around medical leave and return-to-work status. I would definitely recommend consulting with your union rep or an employment rights advocate. Even if you decide not to pursue anything, knowledge is power—and you deserve to know whether your rights have been violated.
- Recognize this isn’t about your worth. It might feel personal (how could it not?), but many districts, unfortunately, prioritize “coverage” and perceived reliability over loyalty and lived experience. That’s not a reflection of your value as an educator—it’s a reflection of a system that often treats teachers as interchangeable parts.
- Start planning your next chapter. Whether that’s in a different district, a new role in education, or even outside the classroom, use the rest of this year to take back some power. You didn’t choose this setback—but you can choose what happens next.
And please, let yourself grieve. Grieve the job, the students you’ll miss, the feeling of betrayal. But don’t let it extinguish the part of you that chose this career in the first place.
Dear We Are Teachers,
I’m in my second year of teaching 5th grade science. We just got our state testing results back, and I’m honestly crushed. A big chunk of my class didn’t pass, and while I knew some students were struggling, I thought we were doing better than this. I worked hard to differentiate, I ran review sessions, I kept in touch with families—but the scores don’t reflect that. Now I’m bracing for the data meetings and shamey conversations with admin that always seem to follow. I can’t help but feel like I failed too. How do I keep this from eating away at my confidence, and how can I bounce back from this kind of blow?
—Stuck in Standardized Shame
Dear S.I.S.S.,
Take my hands. Look into my eyes. Repeat after me: You did not fail. You taught during a year in which many systems are still catching up. Testing can’t measure that.
It’s beyond frustrating to pour your heart into your work and then have a single data point used against you. That’s not just demoralizing—it’s misleading. Data should be guideposts, not final indictments.
Here’s how to ground yourself:
- Zoom out. Standardized tests are a snapshot. They don’t show the kid who finally learned how to ask questions in class. They don’t show the student who came in reading at a 2nd grade level and still made growth. They don’t show the safety, structure, or spark you brought to your room. You know what happened. That matters more than a spreadsheet.
- Be proactive with the data you do have. You sound like the type who might feel better meeting with your administration to talk about patterns you’ve noticed, areas to focus on for next year, and requests for professional development in related areas of growth. Share, too, the gains the data didn’t show. Your administrators will be grateful for you taking initiative, and you’ll be able to enjoy the rest of your summer not waiting for the Big Scary Meeting your first week back.
- Check in with your mentor or a trusted colleague. Ask if they’ve had a year like this and how they managed. Spoiler: They probably have. Have I had a year where I literally gasped and put my hand on my heart—like a Victorian woman near fainting—seeing how many of my students failed a standardized test? Yes. Yes, I have. What feels like a permanent mark on your record is, in reality, a pretty common part of a teaching journey.
- Be kinder to yourself than the system is. One rough testing season doesn’t define your career. What does? Your ability to reflect, learn, and adjust. You’re already doing that—and that’s what makes you a great teacher.
You’re not alone. Plenty of amazing educators have felt what you’re feeling. What matters is that you get back up, not to prove them wrong but because those budding 5th grade scientists still need you.
Do you have a burning question? Email us at askweareteachers@weareteachers.com.
Dear We Are Teachers,
I’ve been a part of interviews this summer for a vacancy on our team. After researching each of the candidates online, I discovered my principal’s top choice is a teacher TikTok influencer with over 10k followers. She features student faces, promotes sponsored content from her classroom, and has what seems like hundreds of videos of her dancing—some even with students! I notified my principal immediately, but she just shrugged it off. I’m very uncomfortable with our students’ privacy being at risk. Should I reach out to this teacher before the school year starts about keeping her influencer business off campus or wait until I’m working with her?
—Not Here for Hashtags