Help! How Do I Squash Low-Level Disruptions Without Feeling Like a Villain? 

Dear We Are Teachers,

I’m a veteran teacher with solid classroom management skills—at least, I used to be. This year, my 5th graders are in a constant state of low-level disruption: side chats, blurting out, phone sneakiness, general restlessness. Nothing big enough to write a referral over, but enough to make every class feel like I’m just herding chaos. I’ve tried proximity, calling home, even redoing my seating chart twice. The worst part? I feel like I’m spending all my energy being “strict,” which isn’t me, and it’s exhausting. How do I manage without losing my mind or turning into the teacher I swore I’d never become?

—Still Standing (Barely)

Dear S.S.B.,

Oh, friend, you are not imagining it: Low-level disruption is everywhere right now, and it’s extra draining because it’s death by a thousand paper cuts. There’s no giant blow-up to deal with and move on from, just a constant hum of chaos that wears you down.

First, know this: You are not a “bad” teacher for finding this exhausting. It’s exhausting because it is exhausting. And it’s not about you “losing your touch.” Kids are coming in with higher energy, lower stamina, and more distractions in their pockets than ever before.

A few strategies to try:

And finally, give yourself permission to drop the idea that “strict” automatically means “mean.” Boundaries are kindness in a chaotic environment. You’re not becoming the teacher you swore you’d never be—you’re becoming the one your students need right now.

Dear We Are Teachers,

I’m at a complete loss. Our school hasn’t had soap in the student or faculty restrooms for weeks. I brought it up to my principal, and her response was, “You can bring your own.” I’m not wild about funding basic hygiene out of my own pocket—especially when it’s something the school should be providing for everyone. I also worry about what this means for student health. How do I push back without becoming “that” teacher?

—All Rinse, No Lather

Dear A.R.N.L.,

LOL. Hard no.

This isn’t some quirky diva request—this is basic health and safety. And it’s not just for you, it’s for every student and staff member in the building. The CDC would like a word.

Here’s how I’d handle it:

1. Document everything. Dates you noticed, when you asked, and the response you received.
2. Loop in the union if you have one. Lack of soap can easily be framed as a workplace safety issue.
3. Talk to Mommy. Sometimes an email from a well-connected parent gets results faster than requests from teachers.

And by “sometimes” I mean “without fail.”

Dear We Are Teachers, 

I’m the team lead for our 11th grade English team. There’s an older gentleman on our team—a 35-year veteran of the school—who always remembers and uses the male teachers’ names but rarely uses the women’s names. Instead, he calls us things like “that tall blonde” or “the gal who teaches next to the library.” When I’ve corrected him in the past and asked him to use our actual names, he either avoids saying them altogether or gets them wrong—sometimes repeatedly. He still only calls me “Chief”! My principal has given me “grin and bear it” advice, but some new teachers on our team are rightfully offended. Do I have any options besides gritting my teeth until he finally decides to retire?

—She Who Must Be Correctly Named

Dear S.W.M.B.C.N.,

Ah, the coworker who “forgets” names but never forgets a condescending nickname. I see you. And I see why you—and your newer colleagues—are frustrated.

My first two thoughts were the possibility of forgetfulness and/or prosopagnosia, or face blindness. But because this teacher uses all the male teachers’ names correctly, it does carry the optics of a selective memory situation.

That said, give this teacher the benefit of the doubt and have a conversation privately first. Something like, “Hey, George. You’ve taught here for so long and seen so many teachers, I’m sure. But I wanted to talk to you about a pattern I’ve noticed. You seem to remember all the male teachers’ names, but not any of the female teachers. Is this something you’ve realized too?”

Saying this opens the door for a calm, non-confrontational conversation and puts the responsibility on him to reflect rather than immediately becoming defensive. From there, you can reinforce the behavior you expect: If he forgets, you’ll prompt him—but then he has to use the correct name (e.g., “Her name is Amy.” “Oh, that’s right. Sorry. Amy.”)

What you shouldn’t do? Ignore it completely. You’re modeling for the newer teachers on your team that they don’t have to accept being “that tall blonde” for the next 35 years.

Do you have a burning question? Email us at [email protected].

Dear We Are Teachers,
AI tools are everywhere now, and I’m seeing a rise in students submitting work that I know was generated by AI—even for my most simple “get to know you” short answers! I’ve raised the issue with admin, but the response has been vague and noncommittal, e.g., “We’re still figuring out policies.” Meanwhile, it feels like I’m expected to police cheating on my own. I want to be fair, but I also don’t want to let dishonesty slide. What strategies can I use to handle AI cheating, and how do I push for stronger support from my school this year?
—The Robots Are Winning