
Everywhere you look in education right now, one theme keeps resurfacing: there just aren’t enough teachers. Districts are posting open positions that sit vacant for months. Schools are combining classes, pulling support staff to cover absences, and relying on long-term substitutes to fill critical roles. What used to be an occasional staffing challenge has turned into a national crisis.
The teacher shortage didn’t appear overnight. It’s the result of years of underfunding, undervaluing, and overburdening a profession that was already stretched thin. The pandemic only accelerated what was already in motion: teachers leaving the field faster than new ones are entering it, and fewer college students choosing education as a major.
The reasons aren’t hard to see. Teacher salaries have barely kept pace with inflation. The workload has grown heavier with every new mandate, curriculum overhaul, and testing requirement. Expectations remain sky-high, even as support systems shrink. And, perhaps most discouragingly, public respect for the profession has eroded, replaced by criticism and distrust.
At the same time, funding inequities across districts have widened. Some schools can offer signing bonuses, robust mentoring programs, and modern resources. Others can’t even guarantee enough substitute coverage or up-to-date textbooks. The uneven distribution of funds means that schools serving high-need communities, where stability and consistency matter most, are often the hardest to staff.
It’s a cycle that feeds itself: underfunded schools struggle to attract teachers, which deepens learning gaps, which then draws more scrutiny and pressure, but not necessarily more resources. The result is that some children receive a world-class education while others are left waiting for a teacher who may never come.
What’s frustrating is that the solutions aren’t mysterious. Teachers and researchers alike have been saying the same things for years: raise pay to make teaching a sustainable career, reduce class sizes to make workloads manageable, invest in mental health supports, and fund “grow-your-own” teacher pipelines that bring local community members into the profession.
But these fixes require consistent, equitable funding and the will to make it happen. It’s not enough to pass temporary grants or announce new programs that disappear after one budget cycle. Real reform means committing to education as a long-term priority, not a political talking point.
Teacher shortages are not just a staffing issue; they’re a warning sign about the health of the entire education system. When teachers leave, students lose continuity, trust, and the stable relationships that make learning possible. When funding fails to reach the classrooms that need it most, inequity deepens and morale drops even further.
Despite it all, teachers continue to show up and even take on extra roles, mentoring new colleagues, and finding creative ways to make things work. But dedication alone can’t sustain a system forever. The passion that brings people into teaching should be matched by tangible support that helps them stay.
It’s time to treat education as the essential public service it is. That means fully funding schools, compensating educators fairly, and ensuring that every child, no matter their ZIP code, has access to a qualified, supported teacher.
Teachers have held things together for a long time, but the cracks are showing. Without meaningful investment and action, those cracks will widen into divides that no amount of goodwill can mend. The future of public education depends on more than the resilience of its teachers; it depends on a collective decision to finally give schools and the people in them what they truly need to thrive.