
Why We've Been Measuring Teacher Wellbeing the Wrong Way
Teacher wellbeing has become one of the most discussed topics in education.
Schools invest in wellbeing programmes. Conferences include sessions on resilience. Staff rooms display posters encouraging people to look after themselves. New initiatives appear every year, each with the intention of supporting educators who are working under increasing pressure.
These efforts come from a good place. Most schools genuinely want their staff to feel well supported.
Yet I often leave these conversations with the same question.
What do we actually mean when we talk about teacher wellbeing?
Over the years, I have noticed that wellbeing is often treated as something separate from everyday work. It becomes an activity that happens after the working day has ended rather than something influenced by the way the working day is designed.
A workshop is organised.
A mindfulness session is offered.
People are encouraged to practise self-care.
All of these can be valuable.
None of them automatically changes the experience of teaching on a Monday morning.
That is why I believe we need a different conversation.
Not because wellbeing initiatives are unhelpful, but because they often focus on helping educators recover from work instead of asking whether the way they are working is sustainable in the first place.
There is an important distinction between those two ideas.
One asks, "How can we help teachers cope?"
The other asks, "How can teachers continue doing meaningful work without constantly reaching the point where coping becomes necessary?"
Those are very different questions.
A Thought to Carry With You
Teacher wellbeing is not measured by how quickly someone recovers. It is reflected in whether the way they work allows recovery to happen naturally.
When Wellbeing Becomes Another Task
One conversation has stayed with me for a long time.
An educator told me she had attended a wellbeing session after school. It was thoughtful, practical, and full of useful ideas. She appreciated the school's effort and genuinely wanted to apply what she had learned.
Then she laughed quietly before saying, "I left the wellbeing session with even less time than I had before."
Her comment was not criticism.
It was an honest observation.
The school had offered support.
The working day itself had not changed.
That conversation captures something I have seen repeatedly.
Many educators are willing to invest in their wellbeing. They read books, listen to podcasts, attend workshops, and try new routines. Yet they often return to working patterns that make those efforts difficult to sustain.
Wellbeing slowly becomes another responsibility to manage.
Another item on an already full list.
When that happens, even helpful advice can begin to feel like additional pressure.
I do not believe the answer is to stop talking about wellbeing.
I believe we need to move the conversation closer to the way work is actually experienced.
The Working Day Teaches Us More Than Any Workshop
Every profession teaches people something about how to work.
Education is no different.
Without anyone saying it directly, teachers quickly learn what is valued.
They learn that being prepared matters.
They learn that flexibility matters.
They learn that caring about students matters.
These are important lessons.
Many educators also learn something else.
They learn that staying late is normal.
That skipping lunch happens.
That answering emails in the evening is expected, even if nobody has formally asked them to do it.
That carrying concerns about students home is simply part of being committed.
Most of these messages are never written down.
They are absorbed through daily experience.
That is why culture is so powerful.
Culture is not created only through policies.
It is created through repetition.
The habits people see every day gradually become the habits they believe are expected.
When educators repeatedly experience work as something that always asks for more, they begin organising their lives around constant responsiveness.
After enough repetition, it no longer feels unusual.
It simply feels like teaching.
That is one reason I believe wellbeing cannot be separated from working culture.
The way people experience their work shapes the way they experience themselves.
Looking Beyond Individual Resilience
There has been a growing conversation about resilience in education over the past decade.
Resilience is an important quality.
It helps us adapt, recover from setbacks, and continue through difficult periods.
I value resilience.
At the same time, I sometimes wonder whether we have expected resilience to solve problems it was never designed to solve.
An educator can be highly resilient and still become exhausted if every working week asks them to carry more than their capacity allows.
A committed teacher can practise mindfulness, exercise regularly, and care deeply about their health while still working within a system that leaves very little room for recovery.
Recognising this does not remove personal responsibility.
It simply reminds us that wellbeing is influenced by more than individual effort.
Researchers studying workplace wellbeing often describe this relationship through the Job Demands–Resources Model. The idea is straightforward. Every job contains demands that require energy, attention, and emotional effort. Healthy workplaces also provide resources that help people meet those demands, whether through supportive leadership, meaningful autonomy, manageable workloads, or opportunities to recover.
Education contains many demands.
The question worth asking is whether educators consistently have enough resources to match them.
When demands continue increasing without the same attention being given to recovery, support, and sustainable ways of working, even the most committed professionals can begin to struggle.
That is not a sign of weakness.
It is a sign that human capacity has limits.
Recognising those limits is not lowering professional standards.
It is respecting the people who make those standards possible.
A Different Measure of Wellbeing
Perhaps the question is not:
"How resilient are our teachers?"
Perhaps the better question is:
"What does a healthy working week actually look like?"
That question changes the conversation.
Instead of measuring wellbeing by attendance at workshops or participation in wellbeing activities, we begin paying attention to everyday experiences.
Do educators have uninterrupted time to plan?
Can they leave work without feeling guilty?
Are meetings purposeful?
Do staff feel able to say they have reached capacity?
Do school leaders model healthy working habits themselves?
These questions reveal far more about wellbeing than any survey completed once a year.
One observation I have carried with me is this:
People rarely build sustainable careers through occasional acts of self-care. They build them through everyday working habits that respect their capacity as much as their commitment.
That is where I believe the future of teacher wellbeing begins.
Not with another initiative.
With a different understanding of what sustainable work actually looks like.
Where Self-Leadership Fits Into the Conversation
At this point, an important question usually follows.
If schools have a responsibility to create healthy working environments, where does self-leadership fit?
The answer is that both matter.
A healthy workplace supports its people through realistic expectations, thoughtful leadership, and working practices that make long-term wellbeing possible. Individual self-leadership cannot replace those responsibilities, and it should never be presented as a solution to organisational problems.
At the same time, every educator makes dozens of decisions throughout the day that influence how work is experienced. Some of those decisions happen consciously. Many happen automatically because they have become familiar habits.
Do you pause between lessons, or move straight into the next task without taking a breath?
Do you leave school carrying tomorrow's work in your mind, or do you create a clear ending to the day?
Do you notice when your energy is fading, or do you keep pushing until exhaustion forces you to stop?
These choices do not remove the demands of teaching.
They influence how those demands are carried.
This is where self-leadership becomes practical. It is less about controlling every circumstance and more about recognising the moments where you still have influence.
Small Habits Shape Working Lives
When people think about change, they often imagine dramatic decisions.
Changing jobs.
Reducing working hours.
Taking extended leave.
Sometimes those choices are necessary.
More often, lasting change begins with habits that are so ordinary they are easy to overlook.
Over the years, I have noticed that educators who enjoy long, fulfilling careers rarely rely on willpower alone. They develop working habits that protect their attention, their energy, and their ability to recover.
One teacher decided that once she had written tomorrow's priorities in her notebook, she would not continue planning lessons at home.
Another began taking a short walk around the school grounds before driving home, using those few minutes to leave the working day behind.
A school leader realised she had stopped eating lunch with colleagues because she always used the time to answer emails. She chose to protect that break a few days each week, not because it made her less committed, but because she recognised how much clearer she felt during the afternoon.
None of these decisions transformed life overnight.
Together, they changed the way work was experienced.
That is often how sustainable careers are built.
Not through dramatic changes, but through repeated choices that support the person doing the work.
A Different Way to Think About the R.I.S.E. Method™
The R.I.S.E. Method™ grew from years of listening to educators describe the same patterns in different ways.
Some felt they were constantly reacting, with very little opportunity to pause.
Others recognised unhealthy habits but found themselves repeating them.
Many wanted to make changes, yet struggled to turn good intentions into everyday practice.
The method brings together four connected ideas.
Rhythm encourages regular patterns of effort and recovery so that wellbeing becomes part of everyday life rather than something reserved for weekends and holidays.
Insight helps educators recognise the beliefs, habits, and expectations that quietly influence how they work.
Structure creates practical ways of organising work that reduce unnecessary pressure and support clearer decision-making.
Embodiment is about living these ideas consistently. Real change happens when understanding becomes part of daily life, especially during demanding periods when familiar habits are most likely to return.
These four pillars are not another programme to complete.
They describe a different relationship with work—one that values professional commitment without expecting people to ignore their own capacity.
Questions Worth Returning To
Some questions become more valuable over time because they invite us to notice patterns rather than judge ourselves.
You may find it helpful to sit with these over the coming week.
What does wellbeing currently mean in my working life?
Which parts of my daily routine support my energy, and which gradually reduce it?
Where have I accepted habits simply because "that's how schools work"?
Which small change would make my working week feel more sustainable?
How would I like to experience my work one year from now?
There is no perfect answer.
The value lies in paying attention.
So What Does Self-Leadership Look Like Here?
Self-leadership begins with recognising that wellbeing is not something we add to an already full life. It is reflected in the choices we make while living that life.
For educators, this means noticing whether the way you work allows you to continue teaching with curiosity, patience, and enough energy to enjoy the profession you chose. It also means accepting that commitment and self-care are not competing ideas. One supports the other.
Schools play an important part in creating healthy working environments, and leaders have a responsibility to shape cultures where people can do their best work without carrying unnecessary pressure.
At the same time, each of us has opportunities to notice our own habits, question assumptions that no longer serve us, and make small adjustments that support a more sustainable way of working.
One thought has stayed with me throughout my years of coaching educators.
A sustainable career is created one working day at a time.
Not through occasional wellbeing events.
Not through working harder until the next holiday.
But through everyday decisions that respect the person doing the work as much as the work itself.
That is what sustainable self-leadership looks like.
Key Takeaways
Wellbeing should be considered through everyday working experiences, not only through wellbeing initiatives.
Recovery is influenced by how work is organised as much as by what happens after work.
Healthy schools and self-leadership work together rather than replacing one another.
Small, consistent habits often have a greater long-term effect than occasional efforts to recover.
Sustainable self-leadership helps educators protect their capacity while continuing to make a meaningful contribution.
Continue Reading
If this article resonated with you, you may also enjoy:
What Sustainable Self-Leadership Really Means for Educators
Why Your Nervous System Matters More Than Your To-Do List
Why High-Achieving Educators Struggle to Rest (Even When They're Exhausted)
The Hidden Cost of Being the Teacher Everyone Depends On
