Last Tuesday, I caught myself staring at my lesson plans with the same enthusiasm I'd have for watching paint dry. Twenty-two years of teaching, and there I was, wondering if I could just show another documentary and call it educational.

Ay, dios mío. The veteran teacher slump had found me.

You know what I'm talking about, right? That feeling when you've been in the classroom so long that everything feels like you're going through the motions. When the new teachers are all bright-eyed and trying the latest Pinterest ideas, and you're over here thinking, "Honey, I tried that in 2003."

It Hits Different When You're Experienced

Here's the thing nobody warns you about: veteran burnout feels different than newbie overwhelm.

When I was a first-year teacher (back when dinosaurs roamed the earth and we actually used overhead projectors), I was stressed because I didn't know what I was doing. I was drowning in lesson plans and crying in supply closets because little Tommy wouldn't stop eating glue.

But veteran slump? It's sneakier. You DO know what you're doing. You can manage a classroom with your eyes closed. You've survived budget cuts, new initiatives, and more acronyms than the Pentagon.

The problem is that competence without passion feels like sleepwalking.

When "Good Enough" Becomes Your Standard

I realized I was in trouble when I started settling for "good enough" lessons instead of great ones.

My kids were learning, don't get me wrong. Test scores were fine. Parents weren't complaining. But that spark, that excitement I used to feel when planning something special? Gone.

I found myself recycling the same activities year after year. Not because they were the best options, but because they worked and I was tired of reinventing the wheel.

Carlos kept asking why I seemed so tired all the time. "You've been doing this forever, mija. Shouldn't it be easier by now?"

That's when it hit me. It WAS easier. And that was part of the problem.

The Comparison Trap is Real

Social media doesn't help, does it?

There I was, scrolling through teacher Instagram at 10 PM, looking at all these amazing bulletin boards and elaborate centers. Meanwhile, my classroom looked like it had been decorated in 2015 (because it had been) and I was using the same math manipulatives I bought with my own money during the Obama administration.

The worst part? I started comparing my twentieth year of teaching to someone else's second year. Of course they had more energy for cutting out laminated everything! They hadn't been doing it for two decades!

But comparison is the thief of joy, and I was letting it steal mine.

Small Changes, Big Impact

Here's what I've learned about climbing out of the veteran slump: you don't need to overhaul everything. You just need to remember why you started.

Try one new thing each month. Not a whole new curriculum or teaching philosophy. Just one small thing. Last month, I started doing "Math Talk Tuesdays" where kids explain their thinking out loud. Simple, but it brought back some of that magic.

Connect with newer teachers. I used to roll my eyes at their enthusiasm (I'm not proud of this). Now I ask them to share what they're excited about. Their energy is contagious, and my experience helps them avoid the mistakes I made.

Remember your "why." I keep a folder of thank-you notes from former students and parents. When I'm feeling like I'm just going through the motions, I read a few. Last week, I got a message from Sofia, who I taught five years ago. She's in high school now and still using the problem-solving strategies we practiced. That's why we do this.

It's Okay to Not Love Every Day

Can I tell you something? You don't have to be "on" all the time.

Some days, you're going to phone it in a little. Some days, the documentary IS the lesson plan. Some days, you're going to count down the minutes until dismissal.

That doesn't make you a bad teacher. It makes you human.

I spent too many years feeling guilty about not being the Pinterest-perfect teacher. But you know what? My kids don't need me to be perfect. They need me to be real, consistent, and caring.

Finding Your Second Wind

The beautiful thing about being a veteran teacher is that you have perspective. You've seen trends come and go. You know that this too shall pass, whether it's a difficult class, a new mandate, or yes, even a slump.

I'm not saying I've completely conquered my veteran fatigue. Some mornings, I still need an extra cup of coffee (or three) to get excited about fractions. But I'm learning to be gentle with myself while still pushing to grow.

We talk a lot about helping our struggling students, but we need to extend that same compassion to ourselves. You've given your heart to this profession for years. It's okay if sometimes that heart needs a little rest.

Moving Forward Together

If you're reading this and nodding along, know that you're not alone. The veteran teacher slump is real, but so is our resilience.

We've weathered so many storms already. We've adapted to changes that would make other professionals' heads spin. We've loved kids who needed it most and celebrated victories that nobody else would understand.

That strength doesn't disappear just because we're tired.

So here's my challenge for us: let's be honest about the hard parts while still believing in the good parts. Let's support each other without judgment. Let's remember that experience is a gift, not a burden.

And on the really tough days? Let's remember that somewhere out there, a former student is using something we taught them to make their world a little better.

That's not a small thing. That's everything.

What helps you push through the tough seasons? I'd love to hear your strategies in the comments. We're all in this together, and your wisdom might be exactly what another teacher needs to hear today.