Prioritize the Pause: A Reflection for Educators on the Day Before Thanksgiving

I want to take a few minutes to reflect and offer an invitation as we head into tomorrow, a day widely known as Thanksgiving, but also recognized by many as the National Day of Mourning. A day that honors the Indigenous peoples of this land and the truth of what they endured and continue to endure.

Both meanings coexist, and for many of us, the name “Thanksgiving” lands differently depending on how honestly we are willing to hold our history. Still, it is a day when many teachers finally have a moment to step back, breathe, or gather with loved ones. For some, it’s a rare chance to rest.

As a classroom teacher, I relied on this long weekend, not just for family time, but because by late November, your whole being feels the weight of the year so far, three months of building relationships, learning your students’ rhythms, establishing routines, trying to create a warm classroom culture, affirming, and rooted in care. None of that happens without real emotional and intellectual labor. A labor that is often invisible and comes at a cost.

This year, those feelings are even sharper. In conversations with my friends, colleagues, and family, there’s a shared recognition that many of us are running on half a tank, and not just emotionally or physically. In many cases, our resources are stretched thin, and the political climate presses on us. The headlines don’t help lighten the heaviness we’re carrying. And most importantly, there are the personal challenges many are navigating in private.

And all of it is connected. The world doesn’t stop at dismissal, and the strain educators feel is not separate from the world we’re living in.

So to all my teacher friends, to the counselors, paraprofessionals, administrators, school leaders, to everyone who shows up day after day for children and communities:
Please remember to pause.

Take stock of where you are.
Do one small thing for yourself as we enter this season.
Allow yourself to stop long enough to feel your feet on the ground again.

In upcoming posts, I’ll share more about navigating these moments throughout the year with greater intention. But for now, what matters is this: give yourself permission to replenish and gather your energy and spirit. Be sure to refill your cup so that you can keep showing up, not as a depleted version of yourself, but as someone grounded, human, and whole.

As we move into the winter season, whatever traditions you observe, I hope you enter it with care, love, and compassion, for yourself and for one another.

Wishing you a gentle, restorative weekend.
Prioritize the pause.