What My Research on Deaf Ed Teacher Burnout Taught Me

Nadia Iftekhar, Ed.D., M.A., M.Ed.

A note to teachers who are doing their best.

As I finished my dissertation on teacher burnout, I spent months listening closely to teachers talk about their work. Not in sound bites or survey checkboxes, but in real conversations about what their days actually look like.

What I heard was not surprising, but it was deeply affirming.

Teachers are not burning out because they do not care enough.

They are burning out because they care constantly.

Across interviews, patterns emerged again and again.

Teachers described long hours that extend far beyond the school day. They talked about carrying decisions home with them. Replaying conversations. Worrying about students. Wondering if they missed something important. Feeling responsible not only for instruction, but for communication, compliance, emotional safety, and outcomes they cannot fully control.

Many of them said something that stuck with me:

“I’m always on.”

Burnout, in the research, was not about laziness or lack of resilience. It was about sustained emotional labor without enough structural support.

One of the clearest findings

Teachers were most overwhelmed when expectations were unclear or constantly shifting.

When systems felt inconsistent.

When roles were blurred.

When they were expected to be both expert and everything else at the same time.

This was especially true for special education and Deaf education teachers, who often serve as translators, advocates, coordinators, and emotional anchors, sometimes all in the same meeting.

Another important insight

Teachers who felt more confident and less burned out were not necessarily working fewer hours.

What made the difference was clarity.

They had clearer mental models.

Clearer decision-making frameworks.

Clearer understanding of what mattered most and what did not.

Confidence did not come from doing more.

It came from knowing how to move through complex situations without second-guessing every step.

Something I want teachers to recognize

You are not imagining how hard this work is.

The exhaustion you feel makes sense.

The emotional weight you carry is real.

And struggling does not mean you are failing.

Burnout is not a personal flaw. It is a signal that the demands placed on you exceed the support built around you.

And importantly, this work was never meant to be done alone.

Support matters. Structure matters. Opportunities to practice, reflect, and make sense of decisions matter. Not to add more to your plate, but to make the work you are already doing feel more sustainable.

As educators, we often normalize pushing through. My hope is that we can also normalize rest, clarity, and support.

As we head into a break, I hope you are able to step away, even briefly, and remember that the work you do matters deeply, even when it feels invisible.

And you are not alone in carrying it.