The Last Stretch of 2025
Dear Teachers,
If you’re reading this with a cup of lukewarm coffee in one hand, half a marking pile beside you, and a to-do list that seems to multiply on its own … you’re not alone.
It’s November. The month where every teacher across South Africa collectively exhales and says, “Just let me make it to the finish line.”
Between exams, marking, reports, Christmas plays and prize giving, it’s no wonder that “self-care” can sound like a luxury rather than a necessity. We’re running on fumes — in classrooms, staffrooms and living rooms — holding it all together for our students, our families and our sanity.
And yet, even in this exhaustion, there’s something profoundly beautiful about teachers; their quiet courage, the humour that bubbles up in chaos and how they notice the small wins like a smile, a thank you, or a lesson that finally landed.
A Moment in Time
2025 has been a challenging year — not only in South Africa, but in the world at large. We’re living in a world that’s struggling to find its feet: politically divided, economically uncertain, facing climate catastrophes emotionally stretched. AI is reshaping classrooms, load shedding still lurks in the shadow, and the headlines rarely bring good news.
But here’s the truth: teachers are the pulse-keepers of society. You show up, day after day, to guide the next generation through a world that often doesn’t make sense. And that takes heart.
The Heart of Self-Care (Made Simple)
You don’t need a wellness retreat in the Drakensberg to restore yourself (though wouldn’t that be nice?). Sometimes it’s everyday habits that keep us steady. Try one or two of these in the next few weeks:
Pause before you enter the classroom.
Take three slow breaths. Remind yourself: I am enough for today.Drink water before coffee.
It’s small, but your brain and body will thank you.Set one tiny boundary.
Say no to the unnecessary meeting or leave school on time once this week.Notice something good.
Each day, jot down one “heart moment” — a child’s laugh, a kind word, a sunset. Gratitude isn’t fluffy; it rewires your brain for hope.Laugh.
Find your “teacher tribe” and share the stories that make you giggle till you cry. Laughter is oxygen for tired souls.
Surviving December (With a Bit of Sanity Intact)
We all dream of a peaceful December — yet somehow it turns into a sprint: shopping, cooking, family, finances, and more expectations than time. So here’s your gentle reminder:
You don’t have to do it all. Not every meal has to be homemade or every gift perfect. Presence beats presents.
Plan your pause. Mark out your rest days on the calendar now — even if they are just a morning walk with no phone.
Lower the bar. This isn’t the year for perfection. It’s the year for peace.
Reflect before you rush. Before the next year sweeps in, take one quiet hour to ask: What gave me joy this year? What do I want more of?
A Final Thought
There’s an old African proverb that says, “You can’t pour from an empty calabash.”
So as the year closes, may you refill not just your marking pens, but your heart. May you find small moments of rest, joy, and connection. You’ve done enough. You are enough.
Take a breath, dear teacher. You’ve earned it.