What Can School Leaders Do to Support a Struggling Teacher?

Dusty Strickland, an assistant principal at North Murray High School in Georgia, refers to himself as a “big dude.” His accolades suggest he’s immensely kind and respected, but he’s aware that he can come across as intimidating when he’s meeting with teachers—especially ones who are having a tough time.

So when Strickland is checking in with a struggling teacher, he always makes sure he’s sitting down. “It’s important to put people at ease and be intentional with your body language,” he said. He needs the teacher to feel relaxed so they can answer the question, “How can I help you become a better you?” That’s one of a number of inquiries he’s found effective.

All educators encounter struggles, no matter how far along they are in their careers. They might have difficulty communicating with families or clearing their inboxes. They might be disorganized. They might have a persistent classroom issue that they struggle to manage. Or they might be dealing with distracting personal-life complications. The tough part is getting teachers to acknowledge that they’re struggling, which requires strong relationships and sufficient face time with school leaders before issues arise. The alternative is having teachers who aren’t comfortable admitting they need assistance.

Recently, I spoke with four school leaders—two principals and two assistant principals—about how they forge institutional trust, keep an eye out for teachers in need of a hand, and deliver advice and action steps without isolating or aggravating anyone.

Get Ahead of ‘Private Wars’ With Empathy and Care

Brian Minarcik, principal of Guerrero Elementary School in Arizona, has a rule for his staff: no private wars.

“If you’re struggling with something for a few days—classroom management, or you don’t know how to teach a concept—you need to come to ask for help,” Minarcik said. “We’re going to jump in and do everything we can to make sure you’re successful. But if you wait two weeks and then call us in, it’s going to take another two weeks to get things under control.”

Minarcik is particularly mindful during the first three months of the school year, which is when private wars often manifest. He encourages longer-tenured teachers to alert administrators when they see an issue. Not to tattle-tale, though—this is purely to “flood the teacher with support,” he said. “Once you get through that first private war and they see the growth, it’s all good.”

Strickland shares Minarcik’s perspective: He wants to snuff out challenges before they become unbearable for an educator. “You don’t just discuss a struggle at the very end,” Strickland said. “You have those conversations as you go along.”

Strickland likes to ask teachers, “Is your head above water?” The question elicits emotional responses and can reveal when a teacher needs a second level of assistance. Sometimes a teacher won’t budge—they’ll insist everything is fine, even though Strickland knows that’s not true from his classroom visits or murmurs among staff.

In those cases, he’ll try a different tactic: “‘I’m not trying to get in your business, you don’t have to tell me your story, but it looks like you need a minute,’” he’ll say, offering to step in and briefly teach their class. “When it goes beyond minutes to full classes to multiple days, then at some point there’s going to be a conversation: ‘What’s going on? How can I help serve you better?’”

As a means of encouraging teachers to come forward when they’re having a rough patch, Perquimans County High School Assistant Principal Julie Roberts proactively gives her cell phone number to every staffer. Roberts’s outreach efforts, her willingness to step up for a teacher in need, are sincere; they bring her joy and fulfillment. She’s even driven a teacher who was new to her rural North Carolina school district to a dealership to buy a car. But there’s also a deeper strategy behind her open-arms practice: “If we welcome you and make you feel safe, cared for, and loved, then you can trust us,” she said.

There’s Nothing Better Than Face Time

Jameson Elementary School, in rural Maine, is small enough that Principal Benjamin Harris can walk through every classroom on a daily basis. Harris, like Roberts, gives out his cell number to the entire staff. “Every single person knows that I’m available whenever they need me,” he said.

Harris purposely creates other bonding moments—taking staff out to dinner after an open house, and pushing a coffee cart to each classroom on Fridays—so he can hear from each staffer on a regular basis. “I get 30 seconds with every staff member while I’m serving them their coffee,” he said. “I get up a little earlier to make three pots of coffee on those mornings, but it pays dividends. We have a climate and culture in our building now where staff feel comfortable coming to their administrator.”

Strickland navigates a much larger staff and student body. He aims for three visits to each classroom per week. The visits are quick—he requests that teachers give a thumbs-up (signaling everything is fine) or a thumbs-down (something is wrong). If it’s the latter, the teacher might pop into the hallway for a quick chat or coaching moment. Students are so used to seeing Strickland striding in and out of classrooms that they don’t bat an eye at his presence; neither they nor North Murray High’s teachers assume he’s visiting for disciplinary or evaluative reasons.

Deliver Comforting, Creative Advice and Action Steps

During weekly debriefs, Strickland chats with two other assistant principals and his principal about teachers who aren’t above water. Though he often already knows who’s struggling, he doesn’t always anoint himself the go-to helper. He’s cognizant that some teachers might be more comfortable with another administrator, or a teacher-mentor, or a coach. He and the other administrators will strategize about the best point of contact for the struggling teacher and then discuss next steps. They’ll discreetly ask the teacher to participate in a one-on-one session with the chosen administrator or teacher, so they can reinforce a skill.

When instructional coaches aren’t available, the next-best mentorship option is often other teachers in your school or district. Harris provides a few days per year for each of his teachers to observe another educator. He phrases the opportunity this way: “I know another school is doing this with curriculum or instruction—can you go see what they’re doing?”

Roberts takes it a step further: She goes with the struggling teacher to observe another educator. She arranges for a substitute teacher for a period and gives the teacher who’s going to be observed a heads-up about the situation. (This, in turn, serves as a compliment for the teacher who’s excelling.) Roberts endeavors to make observations feel “organic and natural.”

A struggling teacher isn’t always going to know what they’re looking for during a classroom visit, so Roberts quietly lends a seasoned perspective. “People can’t give what they don’t have, and they don’t have it because they don’t know it,” Roberts said. “Sometimes you’ve got to show it.” By “show it,” Roberts means whispering little tips, like these:

• “Notice how they never have their back to the classroom? They’re always facing us, so they can see students’ computers.”
• “Do you notice how they’re intentionally circulating the room and checking on every student, not just the kid with their hand raised?”

There are other tactics that can provide relief—or a boost—to a struggling teacher. At the elementary school level, Harris has flipped his instructional model so that it’s heavy on flexible grouping. This keeps kids moving around, which is great for teachers who occasionally get burned-out by certain students.

And every once in a while, the best solution for a struggling teacher is to think outside the box. After squaring away costs and logistics, Roberts encouraged one of her teachers to go to a big education conference with a teacher-mentor—the sort of invitation usually extended only to star performers. “Within a month of the conference, it was a complete 180,” Roberts said of the struggling teacher’s performance. “We celebrated the heck out of her. She told us, ‘I needed that shock-factor moment, someone to believe in me.’”

Don’t Be a Know-It-All

School leaders risk exasperating teachers or failing to address their area of need if they overstep their boundaries. When Minarcik offers advice, he doesn’t cite his own classroom experience from 20-plus years ago, and he instructs other administrators to avoid the same rhetorical trap.

Roberts is willing to invoke her prior experience when she offers advice, but only with caveats meant to signify that she doesn’t have all the answers. She might say something like, “This strategy worked well for me when I taught elementary school, but this is a high school, so it may or may not work here. Give it a try. If it works, great. If not, fail forward. We’ll try something else.”

Sometimes, Roberts and Minarcik encounter pushback while trying to encourage a struggling teacher. They don’t have an ego about it. “I’ll ask, ‘Could you see yourself doing this? Why or why not?’ I encourage them to take that risk,” Roberts said. “If they’re reluctant, or they say, ‘Heck no, there’s no way I could do that,’ then I help them figure out what else would work.”

Minarcik agreed: “If we walk into your room and ask you to try something, you try it. If it doesn’t work, tell us and we’ll give you something new.” The worst-case scenario is when a teacher is adamant that you’re not giving them a fair shake, or that they already practice something you’re suggesting. In that case, Minarcik will follow the educator’s lead and say, “Great—what time do you want me to be there next week to see it?”

That exercise in mutual respect and humility—guiding educators to identify and reflect on growth points without sounding judgmental—goes a long way. As Minarcik likes to remind other administrators (and himself), “You are not the standard here, you are the support.”