10 Years, 10 Lessons: Advice for the New Special Education Teacher
When I look back at my first decade in education—especially working in severe support needs and Deaf Plus classrooms—I’m amazed at how much I’ve grown. Teaching has pushed me, humbled me, strengthened me, and taught me more about myself than any professional development ever could. These are the lessons I wish I had understood in my first few years, but I’m grateful I’ve learned them along the way.
Take Time Off
For the longest time, taking time off felt like a weakness. I worried about letting people down or making things harder for coworkers. Even now, I don’t use all my days, and I often end the year with extra personal time and weeks of sick leave saved up. But after ten years, I’ve finally accepted that rest isn’t selfish—it’s necessary. Teaching demands so much from us that ignoring our own needs eventually catches up. Using a sick day, taking a personal day, or simply stepping back when you need to is part of sustaining yourself in this career. A rested teacher is a better teacher.
Leave the People Pleasing Behind
In my early years, I spent way too much energy trying to make everyone happy. I wanted coworkers, administrators, and parents to approve of every decision I made. The truth is, that’s impossible. What matters is whether you feel confident in the choices you make for your classroom and your students. I still care about the opinions of the people closest to me, but I no longer let fear of disappointing others drive my decisions. If a choice is right for my students and aligns with my values, that’s enough.
Don’t Take Things Personally
If you work in education long enough, you’ll hear things that sting—sometimes from adults, but often from students who are frustrated, dysregulated, or having a hard day. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that most of it isn’t about you. Kids, especially in special education, often communicate emotions before they communicate logic. What feels hurtful in the moment usually fades once they’ve calmed down. Learning to let certain things roll off your back doesn’t make you uncaring; it protects your ability to show up again the next day.
Self‑Care Actually Matters
“Self-care” gets thrown around a lot, but it took me almost a decade to understand how essential it really is. Pushing through illness, grief, exhaustion, or burnout shouldn’t be the norm. We’re human, and our work requires emotional, mental, and physical energy. Taking care of yourself—resting, saying no, taking breaks, setting boundaries—isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s what keeps you steady in a profession that can easily wear you down.
Find Work/Life Balance
My first year of teaching, I had zero work/life balance. I brought work home constantly, stayed late, and let my job become my entire identity. It drained me. It wasn’t until my second year that I even heard the phrase “work/life balance,” and it took time to figure out what that actually meant. Now, I protect my boundaries fiercely. For me, it means leaving work at work unless something is truly urgent. When I’m home, I want to be present—with myself and with the people I love. Teaching is important, but so is your life outside of it.
Dream Big for Yourself
For years, I wasn’t sure what path I wanted to take in education. I knew I loved working with severe support needs students, but I didn’t know what that meant for my future. I’d always wanted a master’s in Deaf Education, but I let someone else talk me out of it. Once that chapter of my life closed, I finally went for it—and now I’m just a few semesters away from finishing. I’ve realized that your dreams are yours for a reason. Now I’m thinking about a PhD in Special Education focusing on Deaf Plus students. I’m not exactly sure where that will lead, but I’m not afraid to dream big anymore.
Find Something to Get Excited About
Not every day will feel inspiring. There will be “slush days,” “bleh days,” and days where you question everything. But there’s always something small worth noticing—a student mastering a new skill, a breakthrough moment, a funny comment, a supportive coworker, or even a good laugh during lunch. The little joys matter. They’re what keep you going when your “why” feels far away. You have to look for the bright spots, even on the hard days.
Speak Your Mind
In my first few years, I was afraid to speak up. I worried about upsetting people or creating conflict. Over time, I learned that advocating for myself and my students isn’t something to shy away from—it’s essential. Most of the time, even if someone gets frustrated, conversations lead to understanding or compromise. And in the moments they don’t, it’s still okay. Your voice matters, and the needs of your students matter even more.
It’s Okay to Have Bad Days
For a long time, I believed that having a bad day made me a bad teacher. I thought I always needed to be perfectly calm, perfectly patient, perfectly prepared. But teachers are human, and showing that humanity is powerful. Students learn so much when they see us own our mistakes, apologize when necessary, and move forward. They become more willing to do the same. Grace goes both ways, even when we forget to give it to ourselves.
Find Your People
If there’s one lesson I want new teachers to hear, it’s this: find your people. Even one person you can trust—someone you can vent to, brainstorm with, laugh with, or lean on—can change everything. The right coworkers don’t just make your job easier; they make your days brighter. They remind you that you’re not alone in this work.
