I Want to Thank You… for Giving Me the Best Job of My Life

While driving to work the other day, a memorable song from my college days popped up – Dido’s “Thank you.”  It felt timely, considering Thanksgiving is fast approaching.  However, as I listened to the lyrics, and contemplated the things I was thankful for such as my wife, my kids, my friends, my home, my thankfulness waned a bit when I considered my job.  Thankful for teaching?  That one gave me pause. However, upon further, and further reflection, I realized that yes, I am thankful. Because despite its challenges – and there are plenty – it is, without a doubt, the best job of my life.

If I told you to be thankful to be a teacher, what would your first reaction be?  Would you say, “Thankful for what?!” Would you grunt sarcastically or shake your head in disbelief? I would understand. Being an educator in this country has lost much of its luster. At times it feels as though nobody is on our side, that no one is rooting for us or expressing appreciation for the work we do. When we perform our jobs well, we often hear nothing. When challenging times arise, we are quick to be blamed. So, if I tell you to be thankful to be a teacher and your reaction is one of discouragement, anger, or hopelessness, I get it. Still, I want to suggest that there is value in reflecting on both sides of this reality: why it’s so hard to be thankful, and why it’s still worth it.

Why It’s Hard to Be Thankful

It is probably easier to make a list of reasons not to be thankful for being a teacher, reasons to feel disheartened instead. The workload, lack of appreciation, the constant criticism thrown our way, the lack of time for self-care, and the salary that fails to keep pace with the cost of living.  Each of these adds layers of frustration to a profession that already demands so much.

The Workload

Let’s start with the workload. If one more person tells me they want to “take something off my plate,” I might start throwing plates out of sheer exasperation. In over two decades in education, I have never once had a year that felt lighter than the one before. Even in years when I taught the same grade level and had already refined my instruction and pedagogy, new responsibilities appeared, year after year.

Often, those outside the classroom, particularly those who have never been teachers, see every addition as an improvement. They see new attendance programs as beneficial, new technology as an enhancement, new ways of reporting assessments as progress, and new curriculum rollouts as exciting innovations. But at some point, we have to say, stop the nonsense. We need to find systems that truly work and keep them in place as long as they remain helpful and relevant.

A colleague once told me about something called “job creep.” The idea is that an organization adds a little more and a little more to people’s responsibilities each year, not so much that anyone quits on the spot, but enough that, over time, everyone looks around and wonders, “How did we get here?” That’s what’s happening in education. Each small addition might seem manageable in isolation, but together they form a mountain. This “job creep” mentality has to go.

Lack of Appreciation and Support

Another reason it’s hard to be thankful is the lack of appreciation and support from all sides – administrators, families, and even the broader public.

Administrators, I’m looking at you first. If you just read that last section about workload, I hope it resonated. Please, take action if these frustrations ring true in your district. Teachers need to feel heard, trusted, and appreciated, not just through words but through meaningful actions. Talk to your teachers. Survey them. Listen to their experiences, and respond transparently. Build trust and buy-in so that together, we can focus on what matters most: our students.

Families, we need you, too. When your children are struggling and we reach out with concern, please don’t immediately respond with blame or defensiveness. Hear us out. Work with us. Increasingly, educators feel anxiety when contacting families, fearing backlash or silence. That’s not how a partnership should feel. As an educator for two decades, I can tell you that support from families has declined noticeably. Let’s rebuild that bridge.

And then, there’s the media and politicians molding our reputation. When our society struggles, whether it’s academic gaps, behavior issues, or social decline, teachers are too often made the scapegoats. While educators certainly share some responsibility for improving our practice, the problems facing young people today are complex and widespread: social media, economic strain, political division, and family instability all play roles. To lay these struggles solely at the feet of teachers is not only unfair but damaging. It discourages good people from entering the profession and fuels public distrust.  

Salary and the “Shiny Stuff”

Then there’s the issue of salary. It seems that schools often prioritize appearance over appreciation. New wings are built, new fields and labs unveiled, and new technology purchased, but teacher salaries remain stagnant. If you truly want to show that you value teachers, pay them accordingly. When schools struggle to hire or retain quality educators, raising salaries is one of the most tangible ways to demonstrate respect. Underpaying staff while increasing workload is a recipe for burnout. And when savings are made, the focus shouldn’t be on making the district look “shinier” for the community, it should be on making it better for the staff who make the whole system run.

The Vanishing Time for Self-Care

Finally, the lack of time for self-care has become one of the most pressing issues in education. Teaching does not end when the bell rings. The grading, planning, communication, and preparation that follow us home each night can easily consume our personal lives. The result is exhaustion that seeps into our families, our friendships, and our health. We preach the importance of balance and self-care to our students, yet rarely practice it ourselves. The truth is, we can’t pour from an empty cup. To sustain our ability to care for our students, we must first allow ourselves time to rest and recover.

Why It’s Still Worth It

Now that we’ve acknowledged the reasons gratitude can be hard to find, let’s turn toward why it’s still possible, and necessary, to be thankful for this calling.

Perspective and Purpose

For those who have only ever worked in education, it can be difficult to appreciate its advantages. Before teaching, I worked as a janitor, in a wool factory, as a furniture store delivery driver, as a pipe fabricator, and also as a security guard. These experiences have offered perspective. Compared to other jobs, education shines in its sense of direct purpose.  While many jobs may be repetitive or disconnected from human impact, teaching offers daily opportunities to shape lives directly.

Making a Difference

Whether or not you see it every day, you are making a difference. Even when your class sizes are large, your time is stretched, or your patience feels thin, your care for your students matters. The learning you facilitate and the relationships you nurture have lifelong effects. You may not always see the fruits of your labor – sometimes not for years, sometimes not ever – but the seeds you plant take root in ways that ripple far beyond the classroom.

Colleagues Who Understand

One of the greatest blessings in education is the camaraderie of colleagues who understand exactly what you’re going through. The workload may be heavy, the “boat” may be taking on water, and the storm may rage on, but you’re in it together.  There’s something deeply comforting about sharing the same challenges, celebrating the same small victories, and knowing you’re surrounded by others who refuse to abandon ship.

The Blessing of Breaks

Yes, our workload is intense, but we do have breaks, and we should be unapologetically thankful for them. These breaks are not luxuries – they are well-deserved lifelines. While other professions might get a few days (or one day) off for holidays, educators are given the gift of true pauses throughout the year. These moments to rest, reconnect, and recharge allow us to return to our students as better versions of ourselves.  Don’t be bitter that others resent us for our breaks – ignore these sentiments, and be grateful. 

The Complexity of the Work

Another reason to be thankful is the sheer complexity of the job. I once worked in a factory for ten-hour shifts, plucking imperfections from wool blankets with tweezers, day after day. The monotony was numbing. And so was the five hours of listening to country music, and then five hours of listening to oldies!  Teaching, by contrast, is the opposite – no two days are ever the same. Each one brings new challenges, personalities, and surprises. It is unpredictable and often chaotic, but never dull. That constant variation is part of what keeps the profession vibrant and alive.

Gratitude for What We Have

Even as we wrestle with the flaws of our system, we must remember that we are fortunate compared to educators in many parts of the world. I have friends who have built schools in Africa where installing walls, a roof, a toilet, or a single chalkboard is cause for celebration. When we pause to consider this, it’s easier to see how blessed we are. Gratitude is not blindness to problems – it’s the ability to see goodness in imperfection, and the ability to appreciate what we do have rather than focus on what we do not.

Practicing What We Preach

As educators, we often tell our students to be thankful, to focus on the positive, and to approach life with grit and determination. Yet we sometimes forget to apply those same lessons to ourselves. It’s okay to acknowledge the difficulties of this job, but we cannot let negativity define us. We must model the resilience and gratitude we hope to instill in our students.

The Students Themselves

And finally, we must be thankful for our students – the incredible young people who fill our classrooms each day. They are the future of our communities, each with unique strengths, quirks, and stories. Getting to know them is one of the greatest privileges of this profession. They challenge us, make us laugh, and remind us why we chose this path. Teaching is about far more than academics.  It’s about connection. And our students give us that gift every single day.

Closing Reflection

Teaching is not easy. It never has been, and it likely never will be. Yet it remains one of the most meaningful, transformative, and impactful careers anyone can pursue. This Thanksgiving, may we pause to find gratitude amid the challenges.  May we see the beauty in the chaos, the purpose in the struggle, and the joy in the small moments that remind us why we became educators in the first place.

“Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others.”
— Marcus Tullius Cicero

“Gratitude turns what we have into enough.”
— Aesop

“It’s a beautiful day, don’t let it get away.”
— Bono, U2

“I touch the future.  I teach.”
— Christa McAuliffe