For the English Teacher Who Had a Challenging First Year

You made it.

Maybe just barely. Maybe with tears in your car during your lunch break or long walks after school where you wondered if this job would ever feel manageable—let alone joyful. Maybe with too many late nights and not enough sleep. Maybe with a folder full of unfinished grading and a heart full of doubt. Still, you made it.

That matters. It was so hard! And you did it.


Just so you know, your friends who had a wonderful first year? They got lucky. You were in it, you did it, and now it’s over. Promise. And you know what? You weren’t supposed to have it all figured out. It takes time. Your classroom wasn’t meant to run like clockwork by October, and your students weren’t all meant to fall in love with literature or sit in rapt attention through every lesson. That version of first-year teaching only lives in movies and teacher TikToks. The real version? It's messy. So messy. It’s full of learning curves and internal rewrites. It’s incredibly hard—and somehow still worth it.

I Made It Too

I remember one morning, I got into work and I just sank to my knees in front of my desk. I literally couldn’t keep myself up and had to take the day off. That was probably in March—I was so close! My classroom was a mess—kids did were wild, I planned each lesson the night before I taught it, my roommate and I had a countdown to break on our wall, I had scary conversations with my principal, etc. The list goes on and on. But, now, years later, those students from my first year of teaching still want to know how I’m doing. They reach out, wondering what my life looks like and wanting to share their own wins with me. It’s so special.

I know now that surviving that year wasn’t a sign of weakness. It was the first mark of resilience. And if you’re still here—reading this, reflecting on the year you just lived through—it means something. It means you care. It means there’s still a spark, even if it’s quiet right now.

All that matters is that you care and you keep caring. The rest will fall into place. The lesson plans will get easier. Your classroom management will be infinitely better just next year. You’ll figure out a sustainable sleep schedule. You’ll get a classroom of bright new faces and you’ll know better how to engage them. It all gets better. Keep practicing your craft, follow your heart and your students, and you’ll get there.

What I Wish Someone Had Told Me

  1. You get to rewrite the story of your classroom next year.
    Every year, every group of students, every new beginning is a chance to try again—with more wisdom and fewer illusions. Your first year was just your first draft. You get to refine it next year.

  2. The best teaching isn’t performance. It’s presence.
    You don’t need to control the room. You just need to show up—open-hearted and prepared enough to be flexible. The rest follows.

  3. It gets better when you teach what you love.
    The moment I started building units around texts I genuinely loved—books like Red Rising, World of Wonders, or student-created fan fiction projects—my students responded differently. And so did I. When you’re passionate, it shows. And when you’re burnt out, it does too. So choose wisely. Make room for joy.

  4. The goal isn’t perfection. The goal is connection.
    You will never reach every student, every time. But you’ll reach more than you think, and they’ll remember the way you cared long after they forget the details of Act III.

Some Things to Think About This Summer

Let this be your gentle reminder: you are allowed to begin again.
You are allowed to teach differently next year.
You are allowed to protect your spark.
You are allowed to keep becoming the teacher you dreamed of being.

And you are not alone.

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Teaching Ideas for a Modern World Literature Curriculum

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How to Create a Light Academia-Inspired English Classroom (With Student Engagement at the Center)