used to this ★ lrh

5

To be honest, Luke had next to no time to handle someone else in his classroom. The school year was barely two months in, and he could tell he was experiencing what he dreaded most: burnout.

It happened to most young teachers after they were shoved into rougher inner-city schools after college that lacked parental support and funding to make their teaching feel as successful as they wanted. It was like a boot-camp to see if they could really handle it. And even after making it through that point, teachers, really good teachers, could be gone after five years.

When he was in college, Luke thought he was invincible to burnout. He knew, and always had known, that he wanted to be a teacher. There was nothing else he felt passionately about like this. If he enjoyed what he was doing and he managed to keep the kids alive, he thought he'd never want to leave. It was simple.

His first couple of years were great. As expected, he was placed in a tough school district, but Luke loved the challenge. For many of his students, school was a cherished safe space, which made them more interested in learning. Male teachers aren't common, especially at the elementary level, but he loved his coworkers he had and the environment he worked in. He didn't need an award from the school district board to feel as if he was doing a good job, for he saw the impact he had every day. He loved seeing his kids grow so much in just a year. The feeling he got when past students would come up and hug him in the hallway made it feel worth it.

This year presented a different challenge.

Teachers were leaving for various reasons-exhaustion, maternity leave, or to go some better-paying private school, and the staff left had to overcompensate. Right now, he was teaching at the high school when he got done with the first graders. At first it was a big adjustment having to treat teenagers like real people that didn't need supervision to walk to the lunchroom or bathroom and manage to keep their outfit intact while there. Politics had always been a subject he loved, so it was great to be able to teach it to students who could understand it. To be able to go beyond counting and drawing pictures and have intelligent discussions about court cases and laws was awesome.

But he was exhausted.

The principal kept promising they'd figure something out once the school year got moving, but little had changed. And as tired as he felt, Luke knew this would be the reality for the rest of this year and perhaps the next.

He'd gotten better offers from "better" schools each year, but Luke couldn't leave. Quitting something just for more money somewhere else was never something he valued. In fact, Luke looked down on teachers who had gladly run away from poorer schools to fancier, wealthier districts a year into their career. Luke knew the relationships he would build with his students would go beyond just the one year that they spent in his classroom. He couldn't imagine how sad it would make them to not see him ready to give high fives in the bus loop or in the lunchroom, on the days he regularly chose to eat with the students. It never felt like an option to leave.

But now, for the first time, he longed for a regular routine that ended when his students left for the buses. He wanted a motivated group of teachers that stayed at their school because they loved working there, not just to check the inner-city box and ditch as soon as possible. He wanted a school where teachers didn't have to always dip into their own savings for supplies and books.

Now, here he was, having to let some strange journalist into his classroom and study him and his students. And this girl, Madison, was much more of an interruption than he needed or wanted. Luke always separated his work life from his personal life when it was appropriate. This meant avoiding relationships with coworkers at all costs. He was here to teach, and that was it.