I'm a former teacher and I used to dread back-to-school season. It was hard for me to give my students what they needed.

• When I was a teacher I dreaded the back-to-school season, despite loving my students.
• I had to both teach my students and create a safe environment for many of them.

It's back-to-school season. As a former teacher in a low-income school, I used to fear August. Don't take this the wrong way. I found nothing as rewarding as connecting with my students. But as adorable as they were, my first graders sometimes didn't make it easy.

I've experienced all-day criers, screamers, and tantrum throwers, carpet rollers, faux-ice skaters, escape artists who preferred wandering the halls to being in class, and 6-year-olds who hurled chairs, computers, and desks at me and their classmates. Once, my student attacked a coworker. She peed blood afterward.

Colleagues dealt with similar behaviors, which trauma mostly drives. It's seeping into the everyday lives of our students. Endemic to public, private, and charter schools to varying degrees, trauma hits those straddling the poverty line especially hard.

The spectrum of hardships impacting our students stretches vastly. Some examples include food insecurities, homelessness, or the absence of a parent due to their death, incarceration, addiction, or abandonment. Another student of mine allegedly witnessed her mother set fire to her boyfriend. Such things would wreck an adult. How could a young person not act out? They're angry, scared, and heartbroken.

I couldn't provide for the plethora of classroom demands

Creating a safe and welcoming environment while teaching age-appropriate social and academic skills reigned as my two most critical duties. With schools' limited budgets and resources, there are few specialized classrooms and limited paraprofessional support, so it was my responsibility to intervene any time a behavior distracted, offended, or endangered the classroom.

To manage innocuous behaviors, I assigned many a behavior chart, awarding points for every fifteen minutes a student displayed a defined positive behavior. This didn't work unless strictly followed. Imagine keeping track of five different students on five different plans. Most teachers spend extra time with their scholars, hoping to decrease behaviors by strengthening their relationships. I've sacrificed countless lunches and planning periods for this cause, and one year, the first hour after school every Tuesday to hang with my "ice skater." Restorative conversations, where teachers encourage students to reflect on their actions, were constant.

For dangerous behaviors, like desk-flipping, I evacuated my students from the classroom and led them to the school library. I was expected to continue the lesson there while the offender destroyed our classroom. This happened daily during my final year. How could I accomplish my essential obligation, teaching, if I spent my day managing behaviors?

School consumed all aspects of my life

Once the school year started, work pervaded my thoughts. I had trouble sleeping and couldn't enjoy my free time due to the hours spent trapped in my head, among colleagues, and in my classroom, troubleshooting how to help our beloved kids. Unfortunately, our best efforts often proved insignificant because their trauma ran so deep.

This is why I dreaded August. The month meant the end of carefree living and the return of endless stress, poor sleep, and little free time. This is teacher life. It's unsustainable, and I've not even touched on the fallout from the COVID-19 pandemic. Yet I can guarantee most teachers dedicate just as much of themselves.

According to a Vox article, nearly 50% of new teachers leave the profession within five years. I barely surpassed that statistic, resigning at fall break in my sixth year to teach online after I had a mental-health breakdown. A colleague's wife wept tears of joy when he told her he was done once he finished his fourth year.

But others keep at it, year after year, brave enough to return at summer's end to keep up the good fight of bettering the lives of our children one classroom at a time.