During my first two years of teaching, I dealt with many situations that left me feeling downtrodden, broken and totally drained. For example, one day, I was sitting in my classroom in full panic mode as I tried to figure out how to create a graphic organizer for my students’ first essay. When an idea finally crossed my mind, and as I was about to write down my thoughts, a student stormed in and refused to leave. The more I told them they had to leave and head back to their class, the more their voice rose as they declared they, “hate their teacher.”

Another incident that I remember was when students came into my class at a time when I didn’t teach them. When these students arrived, they told me this teacher “sucks” and how mean that teacher was to them. Later, I saw a message from that same teacher whose class they had left saying, “______ are on their way to your class.”

The common denominator in each of these situations is that every student who came to me was a student of color. The demographics at this school were approximately 60 percent Latino, 20 percent Pacific Islander and 20 percent Black. All the teachers they were trying to avoid were white.

Supporting Educators of Color in Avoiding Burnout

Over the course of my first year back from the “Zoom Year,” the pattern became clear to me: Students of color did not feel safe with their white teachers. All of these teachers — and I mean all — seemed more invested in shirking the responsibility of supporting these students onto the teachers these students felt safer around instead of figuring out how to become the safe space these students needed. This harmed me as much as the students. White teachers need to put in the work to support students of color. Doing so also supports teachers of color.

White teachers have been avoiding the work of loving students of color for so long, and when that work disproportionately falls on teachers of color, they are more likely to leave education, creating a less diverse workplace that increasingly denies students accurate reflections of themselves.

People like myself deserve safe schools so we can last in this profession and be the best versions of ourselves in service of our students, and this is what I want white teachers to do in order to support teachers of color, allowing us thrive in this profession.

Seek Consent

When that teacher messaged me about their students, I would have loved it if they'd waited until I responded so I could ask, “Why?” What I would have loved here is consent, an ardent agreement between both of us that this student can come into my space. I would have loved transparency on the part of that teacher.

Read the full article about supporting teachers of color by Fatema Elbakoury at EdSurge.