It’s funny how the world changes you and your community. Thirty-six months ago, I would have said media literacy or student press rights were the most significant issue facing scholastic journalism. However, in our new reality, the most critical issue is one we can’t ignore, and it affects all advisers, teachers and humans: the mental health of our community.

I have watched students struggle with anxiety and depression at record levels this year. I have two administrators who have announced they are resigning. The most common question in the teacher’s lounge is: How many years are you buying back?

I’d be lying if I told you this year was pretty.

By October, I, too, was struggling. Parent emails about publications-related items out of my control weighed on me. The college recommendation letters were piling up. A random student walked into my class and yelled profanities. My students told me my expectations were too high when they had not changed.

I felt I was failing at my job. I could not reach or teach my students. Every corner I turned, I felt like I was getting sucker-punched. I had nothing left to give.

I, too, was falling into the COVID conundrum. I spent November belting out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “Bad Blood” and Todrick Hall’s “Wrong *itch” as I drove to work each day. These two songs were on repeat during my seven-minute commute.

Then I had an epiphany. I knew I needed to snap out of it. Because everyone else around me was struggling, I decided to pick up the pieces.

I spent a lot of time over winter break thinking about why I was so happy during the 2020-21 school year while others were miserable. I realized I cultivated our success and happiness when we were virtual. I made time to Zoom with every student before or after school for 20 minutes to develop a relationship. It was well-received and allowed me to know the individual behind the screen. I did not have problems with students remaining engaged as they kept their screens on. Instead, I empowered students to create a world-class product for our community. When we returned to a hybrid, in-person learning in January, they were ready to pivot again.

While their eagerness and grandiose plans for this year fell flat with no actions to propel the program, I couldn’t give up on kids. They needed me. They were not OK.

The ramifications of 2020-2021 have been tremendous. It has put life into perspective and presented a new set of challenges as an educator. Because I see, hear and listen to them, I know there is a bigger problem than producing a yearbook and newspaper. There is a human problem that needs addressing. Mental health is the greatest challenge facing all humans today.

I’ve continued to struggle with why this year is so much worse than previous years. Finally, we are back to “normal,” or as normal as it could be, learning in person. We are together again, and this year is supposed to be better.

By February, it hit me: Students have always been able to count on the routine and the traditions associated with the school. However, this safety net hasn’t been there over the past three years and, as different COVID variants hit, that safety feels like it could be taken again at any moment. So why would they put forth the effort and risk their happiness being taken away again? I finally understood the apathy I saw in the classroom and realized it isn’t apathy as much as it is fear of the unknown.

I realized I needed to continue to show students that I was not going anywhere. I will remain in their corner, being their biggest cheerleader.

I’ve continued sending students happy notes celebrating when they do something great. I started to see a glimmer of hope with students who didn’t apply themselves last semester.

I’ve begun asking students questions about their motivation and what was changing. I continue to get the response from students that they realize they weren’t trying and are capable of more. While it was super frustrating, students today have trust issues. I believe they are afraid to allow themselves to trust in schools.

While so much has changed in education over the past three years, one thing remains constant. Teachers are trying to reach and teach every student in the room. Our worlds have been in a continuous state of change since March 2019. As a result, the demands for teachers are higher than ever before. Something has got to change. I don’t have all the answers, but I will keep figuring it out.

If you appreciate what an educator is doing for your child, tell them. You don’t know how much it would mean to them. The entire world could use some love right now.

Debra Klevens, CJE (Certified Journalism Educator), has advised the national award-winning publications program at Parkway West High School for 22 years. Klevens is married to  Michael and is the mother of two daughters, Sydney and Zoe. Klevens is also Secretary of the Jewish Light Board of Trustees.