From the Desk of an Anxious Teacher

     The first time I remember it happening to a severe degree, I was in college. This wasn't even early college - I was over halfway through my degree program and approaching student teaching.

     Here's how the world saw it:

     Our state association of the National Association for Music Education had their conference every November. One student was selected per college to participate in a band conducting masterclass. The selected student would choose a piece of band music from a list, conduct a lab band, and receive feedback from a clinician in front of an audience.

     I was chosen to be my school's representative. From the outside, why shouldn't I be selected? I was a perfectionistic student, always studying and practicing, with a 3.99 GPA. I had an inquisitive, charismatic presence. My professors chose me in the good faith that I would prepare and present myself well.

     I did prepare. And prepare, and prepare, and prepare. On the day of the clinic, I stood up there and conducted in front of an audience. I got feedback. I got compliments afterward for how in control I looked.

     That's how the world saw it.

     Here's what really happened:

     It was the day before the conference. I wasn't finishing up preparations on my music. I was in bed, where I had been for the last several hours. I was in tears. It felt like the world was spinning out of control and a vise-grip  was squeezing my heart. I was having a panic attack. But this wasn't an ordinary panic attack. I had encountered anxiety before, but this left me immobilized for almost an entire day.

     The next day, I got up, went afraid, and conducted the group. I didn't allow the world to see the anxiety because I was even more afraid for them to see the anxiety than I was to follow through on the task.

    I am writing because the world doesn't see it that way. They don't see that I've been to more therapists than I can count on both hands, several medications (currently med. free, praise God!), or the continued struggles with anxiety. They see the smiling, caring, guiding teacher. Teachers with anxiety hide their struggles because our students need us, and we need to do our jobs.

     Today, I found myself searching Google for "teaching with anxiety disorder." Many results came up with advice on helping anxious students, but very few results appeared with advice for anxious teachers (by anxious teachers, I mean beyond the normal stress of the job - I am expanding into the realm of anxiety disorders here). I believe many teachers with anxiety disorders are out there, but are afraid of speaking out because teachers are supposed to be pillars of strength. Some silently walk out of the profession because the anxiety is too great.

     Perhaps we need to be more open about our weaknesses. I know I tend to have a much more stringent standard for myself than I ever would have for my students. Maybe we need to talk less about how many hours we put into work, or about all the extroverted leaders of teaching, and more about self-care, compassion, and the quiet but powerful teachers doing great work behind the closed classroom door.

     I made it past those anxious days of college and still teach, and I still keep my posed public self together, but the panic attacks still visit me sometimes. They are especially potent right before I am going to publicly speak or make a presentation (yes, I'm doing one soon). See, I am a person passionate about helping people and doing it well, but I function best behind the scenes. The anxiety sometimes makes me want to quit, but then I remember the psychiatrist who told me several years ago that I tested into the 97th percentile on the anxiety test he administered, into the realm of social anxiety. On that fresh May spring day, I felt like it may never be possible to step into a classroom and lead. Surely, I do have some limitations. I have lost many days to anxiety. But every Monday-Friday, I unlock my classroom door and keep teaching. Because people are worth it.