Teachers Are Drowning Too, It’s Time We Threw Them a Rope
Posted on 13th April 2025 at 09:12
Every day, teachers step into classrooms carrying more than just a lesson plan. They step into a stormy river, one that’s rising higher with every new challenge thrown their way. Academic struggles, behavioural issues, emotional outbursts, anxiety, dysregulation, undiagnosed learning differences, unmet needs… and not nearly enough support.
They’re not drowning because they’re not strong enough,
They’re drowning because they’re carrying too much.
Let’s be clear, most teachers didn’t get into education expecting to manage complex trauma, deliver differentiated learning for neurodivergent students, or deal with meltdowns that stem from sensory overload or executive functioning struggles. Yet here they are, trying to keep every child afloat, while their own feet are slipping beneath the surface.
The Education System Was Meant to Equip Children for Life, Not Reduce Them to Data
Education should be about preparing children for the adult world, helping them understand themselves, build relationships, solve problems, manage emotions, and develop meaningful life skills. It should equip them to navigate life, not just exams.
But that’s not what school looks like anymore.
The system has shifted away from its true purpose. It has become privatised, target-driven, and shaped by the pressure of performance indicators. Schools are no longer places of growth and preparation for real life, they’ve become businesses.
Measured, compared, and judged through Ofsted inspections, attendance records, SATs scores, and league tables.
Children are no longer seen as individuals with different needs, personalities, and strengths.
They are seen as outputs.
And the school is the machine that must keep producing results.
Teachers, in turn, are under constant pressure to meet unrealistic expectations. They are delivering a curriculum designed to tick boxes, not to build confident, emotionally healthy, resilient human beings.
We’ve lost sight of what education is for.
When a child is struggling, not because they can’t learn, but because they can’t cope with the demands of the environment, the pressure falls back on the teacher.
And when there’s no flexibility, no additional support, and no understanding of how different children actually learn, both the child and the teacher are left behind.
And What About the Hands-On Learners?
The education system doesn’t just fail children with neurodivergent needs, it also fails those whose strengths are practical, creative, or hands-on. Not every child is meant to sit at a desk, write essays, or memorise facts for exams. Some children are brilliant with their hands, natural builders, problem-solvers, creators, and fixers. These are the future tradespeople, mechanics, artists, engineers, and entrepreneurs.
But the current system doesn’t celebrate these skills.
It pushes every child through the same narrow academic pipeline, and if they don’t fit, they’re labelled as low ability, lazy, or disruptive.
In reality, they’re often some of the most capable and intelligent young people, they just don’t shine in the environments schools were designed around. And when their talents are ignored or misunderstood, we risk losing them altogether.
Education should be flexible enough to nurture every kind of mind, not just the academic ones.
Take, for example, a child with executive functioning difficulties
This child may struggle with organising their thoughts, starting tasks, remembering instructions, or switching between activities. To the outside eye, they may seem lazy, disinterested, or even defiant, but what’s really happening is that the part of the brain responsible for planning, attention, and working memory is underdeveloped.
The teacher is trying to deliver the curriculum. The child can’t follow multi-step instructions, keeps forgetting what they were asked to do, or blurts out in frustration.
It becomes a cycle, the child feels like a failure, the teacher feels ineffective, and learning stalls for everyone.
That child may be autistic, they may have ADHD, they may not be diagnosed at all. And while not every autistic or ADHD child struggles with executive functioning, many do, especially when the demands of the environment outweigh their coping skills.
This isn’t the child’s fault, and it certainly isn’t the teacher’s fault
The real problem is that teachers are being expected to do far more than they were ever trained for. They didn’t sign up to diagnose, manage emotional regulation, or navigate the complex world of neurodiversity, they trained to educate, to deliver the curriculum set out by the government.
But the classroom has changed.
More and more children are coming into school with unmet needs, undiagnosed conditions, or difficulties that interfere with learning. And instead of additional support being provided, that weight is falling on the shoulders of teachers.
It’s not fair, it’s not sustainable,
And it’s setting both children and teachers up to fail.
So what is the answer?
We need a shift, not just in understanding, but in how we support schools and who we expect to carry the weight.
Support staff, SEN specialists, family support workers, and external services should be embedded into the school ecosystem, not brought in after a crisis, but already present to prevent one. Teachers should not be the first and last line of defence when a child is dysregulated, anxious, masking distress, or falling behind.
If a child is struggling to learn, that is a support issue, not a teaching failure.
We need to recognise that:
Some children need co-regulation before they can concentrate
Some children need scaffolding to build executive functioning skills, like planning, organising, and focusing
Some need safe spaces and sensory supports to help them feel calm and connected
And many children, especially those who are autistic or have ADHD, need approaches that acknowledge their different learning profile, not punish it
These are needs, not “naughty behaviours,”
And the people who meet these needs should be trained to do so, not expected to juggle them on top of a full teaching timetable.
What throwing the rope really looks like
Throwing the rope isn’t about fixing the teacher or the child. It’s about building a team around them, so the teacher can teach and the child can learn.
That could look like:
A dedicated family support lead or neurodiversity worker who can guide and advise staff
A clear referral process when a child is struggling, one that doesn’t take months or rely on parents chasing
Whole-school training on understanding sensory needs, executive functioning, and neurodivergence, not just one-off CPD
And emotional, practical support for teachers who are running on empty and still showing up every day
Because when we support teachers, we support children
It’s time to stop blaming individuals and start fixing systems.
The river is wide, and the current is strong, but no one has to go under.
We see you, teachers,
And we’re standing on the riverbank, rope in hand.
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