Teachers, Let’s Talk About Boundaries

Note to School and District Leaders: You don’t need another headline to tell you what teachers are going through right now. You see it firsthand. The pressure. The burnout. The emotional exhaustion. And as a district leader, you don’t just care about your teachers as people—you feel the pain when they leave, when morale tanks, or when the culture starts to suffer.

This article is for your teachers. Share it with them. Because the more support they have to take care of themselves, the more they can keep showing up for their students and for each other.

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Teachers, I Know You Care—But You’re Not a Machine

Teachers have some of the biggest hearts of anyone I’ve ever met. You show up early. You stay late. You give everything you have to your students, your school, your community.

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Technology has not only sped up our world, but it’s also practically erased the line between work time and personal time. For teachers, that means you’re expected to be accessible before class, during class and after class. A parent emails and if you don’t respond in five minutes, they send a follow-up accusing you of ignoring them. Some parents want your personal cell number so they can text you on a Sunday and demand to know why their child has a C in your class.

The message is loud and clear: You’re supposed to be everything to everybody all the time.

But you’re not a machine. You’re a human being. And in a world that feels completely free of boundaries, you’ve got to draw the line. Not to shut others out—but to protect who you are.

The Truth About Boundaries

When most people talk about boundaries, they're talking about the idea of being intentional about what you say yes to so you can protect your time and energy. That's a good, healthy practice. But boundaries are about more than that. Boundaries start with deciding who gets a say in your life.

Here’s how I learned this: Back in grad school, several of us had just started seeing real clients as part of our practicum. One day, our professor shared a case study about a client who tells the counselor he's been working with for months, “You’re terrible at this! I’ve spent all this time with you and paid you a bunch of money, and you don’t know what you’re doing. You have no idea how to be a counselor!”

I was frozen. I knew getting that kind of criticism from someone I’d worked hard to support and build a relationship with would destroy me.

Then, a colleague looked at me and said, “John, they don't get that. You—John—get to decide who hurts your feelings, who speaks into your life and makes character judgments about you.”

That moment changed everything for me. Because it forced me to ask, "Who have I given permission to speak into my life?" It wasn't just the counseling clients I had. I'd given that permission to my students. I'd even given it to their parents! I was allowing their comments and opinions to tell me what kind of person, husband, teacher or citizen I was.

My friend helped me understand something you need to hear too: Not everyone gets that kind of access. I get to choose who I allow to speak into who I am. Not my students. Not their parents. Not strangers on the internet.

Boundaries define the rules of a relationship so the relationship can survive and thrive. They make it clear what is mine versus what is yours. And what’s mine is my character and my integrity. I decide who I invite into that space.

What Happens Without Boundaries

Think about all the comments and concerns you receive from parents, students, fellow teachers and administrators. Now pile on all of the articles, news reports and social media posts you read that tell you how you’re failing and that your profession is doomed, and even what type of person you are. Now picture all those messages as bricks—the kind you build a house with. And each time you give access to your heart and mind to the people making these comments, picture yourself picking up a brick and shoving it into a backpack.

How long before your backpack is full?

How long until it’s too heavy to carry any more?

How long until it’s impossible to walk into the classroom and be a present, whole teacher?

Without boundaries, the weight of everyone else’s expectations becomes unbearable. And the job you once loved begins to break you. You’ll take work home, answer emails at all hours, and try to meet everyone else’s needs except your own—just to prove your worth.

If that’s hitting home with you, I want you to get this message loud and clear: You can love your students and still need space. You can care deeply and still need rest. And until you decide to set a boundary that limits the voices speaking into your value as a person, you’ll continue to carry the weight of a backpack that’s full of everyone else’s bricks.

What Happens When You Set Boundaries

Boundaries are about ownership. They’re you saying, “I’m in charge of my life.” I decide who has access to my identity, my value, my purpose.

That doesn’t mean you won’t get feedback or correction from supervisors—that’s part of the job. Bosses (and legislators and board members) get to tell you what to do on a daily basis. But you get to decide who you listen to when it comes to your character and your identity. You get to decide who gets a vote about your self worth, both inside and outside of the classroom. And yes, this is very hard. There are a ton of negative and demanding voices aimed right at you.

But no matter how loud it gets, remember your power and your strength. You get to choose who to listen to about the things that matter. You get to set these internal boundaries.

When you set boundaries, you’re not closing the door. You’re opening it to the right people. You’re choosing who gets to ride in your car as you navigate the challenging road of being a teacher.

And when that car is full—with mentors, close friends, trusted voices—you can drive forward with clarity and peace.

Where to Start

You can start setting boundaries by taking inventory of who you’ve given access to your identity and worth. Ask yourself the same question I asked myself: Who have I allowed to speak into who I am as a teacher, a colleague, a person? Sure, maybe you can become a better teacher, more organized and more responsive. That type of professional feedback is important and necessary. But you can have room to improve as a professional and still be a person of dignity, worth and respect. Who do you allow to speak into the depths of who you are?

Write down the names of people you trust to give you honest, kind feedback—the people who love you and want the best for you. That’s your inner circle. Everyone else? Their opinions may still come, and their input in certain areas may be important, but they don’t get to shape your value. Your worth.

Then, practice saying no. No to checking emails at 10 p.m. No to internalizing every student or parent complaint. No to believing you’re not enough.

Setting boundaries takes time, but it starts with one brave decision: You get to decide who holds the microphone in your life.

You Deserve Peace Too

I know how heavy this job can be. And I know you didn’t become a teacher for the praise or the paycheck. You did it because you believe in students. You believe in the power of education.

But you don’t have to carry the weight of everyone’s expectations to prove it.