Queensland University of Technology (QUT)

Readiness to teach? That will take time and development

When it comes to new teachers, there is an expectation that they are “classroom ready” from day one on the job.  

Yet there is mounting evidence that new teachers are being sent into schools that are short-staffed and where experienced teachers are leaving the profession, feeling high levels of stress and burn out.  

Clearly, even at the best of times, teaching is a complex profession. Developing proficiency to work in this kind of context requires time, experience, and supported opportunities for feedback and reflection.  

“Classroom readiness” has become a buzzword in education policy and teacher education; all initial teacher education providers need to assess graduates’ readiness through Teaching Performance Assessments

Given that it is so challenging to create workplaces that keep experienced teachers in the profession, our research looked at these expectations of new teachers.  We conducted a scoping review to examine what ‘classroom readiness’ means, and whether or not it can – or should – be assessed. 

Assessing new teachers’ classroom readiness 

We found that classroom readiness is conceptualised in three broad ways: as adherence to a set of regulations and standards; as a policy construct; and as a professional journey. 

Given the requirement that all initial education providers assess pre-service teachers through Teaching Performance Assessments according to teacher professional standards, it is not surprising that much of the literature defines classroom readiness according to these standards. There has been an ongoing discussion about the suitability of this approach for some time.  Back in 2009, Connell described teacher standards this way: 

What teachers do is decomposed into specific, auditable competencies and performances. The framework is not only specified in managerialist language. It embeds an individualised model of the teacher that is deeply problematic for a public education system. The arbitrariness of the dot-point lists means that any attempt to enforce them, on the practice of teachers or on teacher education programmes, will mean an arbitrary narrowing of practice. (p. 220) 

As a policy construct, classroom readiness is used by governments and regulatory bodies to justify reforms in teacher education, and to reassure the public that teacher educators are held to high standards. This approach has seen initial teacher education providers absorb the high costs associated with implementing and moderating teaching performance assessments.  

Finally, others describe readiness as an ongoing journey of growth and development rather than a fixed state that can be measured at a single point in time.  Even the best beginning teachers continue to learn and adapt as they encounter new challenges and contexts. This view argues that they should not be expected to be fully prepared from the start.  Authors in this final group instead advocate for adequate recognition of the complex and relational aspects of teaching that cannot be assessed in a TPA.  

The problem with “readiness”  

The first problem with the rhetoric of ‘readiness’ is that it has the potential to place unrealistic expectations on beginning teachers.  Assessing readiness through a narrow lens that has a focus on planning, teaching, assessment and reflection has the potential to gloss over the support that new teachers really need.   

Teachers’ work is primarily relational in nature and measuring classroom readiness overlooks aspects of teaching that are hard to quantify, but yet are foundational for teaching and learning. Teaching is complex and one assessment cannot capture the diverse contexts and level of adaptability and resilience required of beginning teachers.   

The second problem with readiness is that there is no agreement across the literature, or even in policy itself, about how it could be possible to assess whether a new teacher can do everything from supporting students experiencing complex trauma, through to managing excessive workloads. The OECD’s Teaching and Learning International Survey (TALIS) 2018 indicates that Australian teachers report higher levels of stress than the OECD average and that 30% to 50% of all teachers leave the profession in the first five years.  This is the context into which new teachers find themselves.  A serious question is whether it is realistic for anyone to be ‘ready’ for these circumstances; and if so, how it would be possible to assess readiness to work in these conditions. 

It takes a system to support beginning teachers  

It is not realistic to expect that just because new teachers can plan and teach a lesson during a supervised placement, they are fully prepared for the complex schools where they are likely to work. In fact, expecting beginning teachers to work independently from day one, without sufficient ongoing mentoring, risks reinforcing the very conditions that push more experienced teachers out of the profession. 

It is undoubtedly important that ITE programs equip pre-service teachers with strong understandings of curriculum and assessment, teaching practices, and student diversity.  However, if we want beginning teachers to have long and rewarding careers, they must be met with appropriate support once they enter the profession. Recent research shows that beginning teachers need support that is specific to their context, which requires sustained government investment. 

This is not to say there are any easy solutions for how to support new teachers. Experienced teachers are already operating at their limits, particularly in hard-to-staff schools where teacher shortages and turnover have substantially increased the workload of experienced teachers. Without adequate resourcing for time release, reduced teaching loads, professional development and networking, mentor teachers themselves risk burnout, further compromising the support new teachers need.  

It is understandable that policy makers and systems want assurance that new teachers are ready to tackle the demands of the job from day one. However, the real-world complexities of teaching mean that no amount of preservice teacher preparation can full equip graduates for every situation they will encounter. What beginning teachers need are fair workloads, ongoing mentoring, opportunities for collaboration, and access to professional learning that is responsive to the evolving demands of their specific school context. 

A professional journey of growth

Rather than viewing classroom readiness around a set of standards to be achieved by the end of a degree, we should view it as the beginning of a professional journey of growth.  New teachers require time, support, mentorship and opportunities to reflect and learn as they navigate the demands of their early years in the classroom.

Nerida Spina is an associate professor at the Queensland University of Technology in Australia. Nerida’s research expertise is teaching and leadership for equity and social justice. Rebecca Spooner-Lane is an associate professor at the Queensland University of Technology. Her research explores the professional development and career progression of teachers from graduate to lead teacher. You can find her on LinkedIn. Elizabeth Briant is an associate lecturer at the Queensland University of Technology. Her research explores contemporary social conditions that shape the growing use of private tutoring in Australia. Julia Mascadri is a senior lecturer at the Queensland University of Technology. Her research interests include pedagogical practice in early childhood education, educational leadership, and assessment in initial teacher education. You can find her on  LinkedIn

Early Childhood Workforce: revitalising policy to enable quality

The quality of education and care for children in Australia currently sits at the forefront of public debate. Governments have responded to critical calls for children’s safety in before school settings  with new mandatory measures, urgent regulatory changes, and funding investment to boost the capacity of the workforce.

Three key policies fundamentally influence educators’ practice in the early childhood education and care (ECEC) sector.

  1. The National Quality Framework (NQF)
  2. The Early Years Learning Framework (EYLF), and;
  3. The modern awards.

Educators must work collaboratively (according to the NQF) and inclusively (in line with the EYLF) as key indicators of quality, yet with disparate pay and conditions (following the modern awards).

I embarked on a PhD to deeply analyse the NQF, EYLF, and modern awards—a first of its kind—and explore how educators understand and enact policy in practice. I located disconnections between government documents and inconsistencies as teams of educators translate policy in many ways.

As I near the completion of my research, I am producing a strategic plan to realign the early childhood policy landscape in Australia. I focus on presenting opportunities to revitalise ECEC policy through short term, medium term, and long-term actions. By spotlighting the current complexities of teamwork in ECEC, I offer a new approach to policy that can be undertaken by governing bodies and the workforce itself.

Policy with good intentions

The National Quality Framework (NQF) was released in 2012 in response to the OECD’s 2006 international review, which highlighted the importance of the early years and inspired a global quest for quality ECEC. The NQF aims to improve educational outcomes through a National Law and National Regulations, a National Quality Standard (NQS), an assessment and quality rating process, and approved national learning frameworks. The modern awards sit outside the scope of the NQF, driving legislated industrial conditions for over 70% of the ECEC workforce.

Through analysing policies, I found that the NQF, a reform with good intentions, can be deciphered and applied in various (and at times unintended) ways as teams simultaneously navigate their legal requirements of the modern awards. Teams of educators contend with many interpretations of policies as they strive to make quality decisions for children’s education and care.

Teams piece together the ECEC policy puzzle

To explore how policies translate into practice, I recruited four long day care centres in Queensland to share centre documents and participate in focus groups. This enabled research into how centres interpret policy through written expectations for teams—for example, position descriptions, centre philosophy, and governance structure—and how teams of educators say they implement policy in practice.

Through rigorous analysis I show teams of educators grappling as they fit together and apply policy documents to make decisions for children’s learning. My findings illuminate the taken-for-granted expectation that everyone pitches in with everything (the NQS and EYLF), which sits in tension with position descriptions and prescribed wage levels—not everyone is paid to do everything (modern awards).

A problem yet to be solved

Now over a decade since the introduction of the NQF, workforce stability remains an issue yet to be resolved, hampering efforts to teams achieving quality ECEC.

ECEC workforce shortages have been exacerbated by persistent issues of attracting and retaining qualified educators, high attrition from the sector, and persistent calls for increased wages and conditions. The ECEC Workforce Capacity Study forecasts an additional demand of 54,000 educators and teachers by 2034.

The National Workforce Strategy 2022-2031 prioritises a focus on responding to identified barriers of the reform. Key actions include improving professional recognition of the ECEC workforce, attracting qualified educators and teachers, and engaging the sector in upskilling.

My research highlights a different barrier to the ECEC workforce. As I analysed policies alongside one another, I identified contradictions in the ways they can be interpreted, negotiated, and enacted in teams.

A fresh take on ECEC policy

Three complexities are most visible at this point in my doctoral studies and offer a fresh take on ECEC policy.

First, staffing structures must comply with the individualistic and hierarchical approach of the modern awards, which dictates each educator’s wage and responsibilities. This contrasts with the NQS and the EYLF where collaboration and the notion that everyone contributes to decisions is an indicator of quality ECEC. Policy that accounts for fair distribution of roles and responsibilities and at the same time encourages teamwork will go some way to respond to the tensions as educators negotiate their work.

Second, the introduction of the degree-qualified teacher in teams aimed to lift the quality of early education. Yet without clear indication of when and how the degree-qualified teacher contributes to decision-making, or what the role should look like in teams, the expectations for their position may not differ from others in the team. Policy that explicitly harnesses the skills and knowledge of the degree-qualified teacher will lead to tangible change following the increase in early childhood educator qualification requirements.

Third, each centre must appoint a designated Educational Leader to lead the implementation of quality curriculum and pedagogy in teams. The role can be diversely qualified—from certificate III to degree—and though eligible for some non-contact time and an allowance, the Educational Leader may hold little actual authority in centre decisions. Policy that enables the Educational Leader to enact a formal leadership role will see the value of their professional knowledge embedded further into team decision-making.

What’s next?

Watch this space in the coming months for publication of my research. I will offer new ways for policymakers, approved providers, and educators to think differently about how teams could work within policy intent to improve quality outcomes for children.

Jessamine Giese is a PhD Candidate at Queensland University of Technology. This article is drawing on doctoral studies, with supervision team Associate Professor Megan Gibson and Dr Marie White.

Think teacher education is to blame for shortages?

“If we could just fix initial teacher education,” the argument goes, “we would fix the teacher shortage.” But what if that diagnosis is not only inaccurate, it’s part of the problem?

The real issue driving early career teachers away from rural and regional schools isn’t inadequate preparation. It’s systemic neglect.

A Misdiagnosis

For over a decade, teacher education has been framed as the weak link in addressing workforce shortages. Policymakers suggest that better-prepared graduates would remain in the profession, especially in hard-to-staff schools. It’s a convenient narrative, but it relies on a flawed premise. The premise? That preparation is the primary issue, rather than the conditions graduates face once they enter the profession.

This thinking disregards the lived realities of rural and regional educators, the realities shaped by housing scarcity, limited mentoring, professional isolation, and chronic underfunding.

In interviews with preservice and early career teachers, these barriers were consistent and systemic: housing stress, disconnection, and a lack of support. These are not outliers. They reflect a broader policy failure.

They are not signs of inadequate teacher training. They are evidence of entrenched structural issues that go far beyond what any university curriculum can resolve. Yet the policy focus remains fixated on initial teacher education (ITE), casting it as the scapegoat for problems rooted elsewhere.

This serves a political purpose. When we blame universities, we divert attention away from underfunded schools, burnout, and the deep inequities facing rural and regional education. Real reform is sidestepped.

Teachers Are Ready. The System Isn’t

Australian teacher education is rigorously accredited. It is built on nationally consistent standards. Graduates emerge with strong curriculum expertise, classroom management skills, and substantial in-school experience.

Research consistently shows that effective mentoring, adequate staffing, and supportive induction are key to teacher success. Yet in many rural and regional schools, these supports are lacking due to chronic shortages and underinvestment.

The gap isn’t in teacher readiness. The gap is in the systems they enter. New teachers face fragmented support, housing insecurity, and overwhelming workloads. Even the most capable graduates cannot thrive without structural backing. Responsibility for retention doesn’t end at graduation; it requires a well-resourced and coordinated system, especially in the communities that need teachers most.

Burned by the System, Not Burnt Out

ITE equips teachers with the skills and knowledge to succeed, but their professional momentum often stalls upon entering environments shaped by instability and neglect. Early career stories that begin with enthusiasm often give way to exhaustion and disillusionment. This is not due to personal shortcomings, but due to structural failings.

Rural teaching offers meaningful and rewarding work. It is too often undermined by the realities of insecure housing, limited mentorship, and isolation. National policies intended to support these placements frequently fall short, unable to meet the hyper-local needs of diverse communities.

The burden of structural inequity continues to fall on individuals. Without meaningful investment in the systems new teachers step into, even the best-prepared graduates will leave. They will leave not from lack of readiness, but from lack of support.

From Survival to Sustainability

Graduates aren’t underprepared. They are entering unstable environments marked by workforce volatility and fluctuating policy. As the Independent Review into Regional, Rural and Remote Education makes clear, workforce stability depends not just on recruitment, but on sustained investment in housing, career development, and targeted support.

Until we address these foundational issues, rural and regional teaching will remain difficult to sustain. The solution lies not in another overhaul of teacher education, but in building stable, supported, and secure futures for the educators who choose to teach where they are needed most.

Sarah M James is a Senior Lecturer and Academic Lead for Professional Experience at Queensland University of Technology. Her research focuses on literacy, mentoring, education policy, and early career teacher support. She has secured multiple grants and currently investigates housing-related challenges faced by preservice teachers, early career teachers, and principals in rural, regional, and remote contexts.

On AERO: Read this now. The critiques are well-founded.

KPMG is conducting a review of the Australian Educational Research Organisation (AERO), a ministerial-owned company funded by Commonwealth, state and territory governments.

I learned of the review, not through a media release or Ministerial announcement, but through a flurry of posts on social media, some critical of AERO and others leaping to its defence. The review includes in-person interviews but also includes an easily-gamed survey that has significant design flaws. Anyone can fill it out, any number of times and can pretend to be any kind of stakeholder.

So it is important that we look carefully at what is being said publicly. The recent posts critical of AERO make a range of valid points but there are some interesting patterns in the posts coming to its defence.

One pattern is where the concerns are re-articulated and then dismissed as “misunderstandings about” or, elsewhere, “resistance to” evidence-based practice. It’s a short walk from there to the other pattern, whereby education research and the academics who produce it are caricaturised as ill-informed or worse.  

Zombie products

The caricatures draw on a discourse that has long been in operation in England and imported here courtesy of the Abbott-Turnbull-Morrison government, championed by conservative think-tanks, like the Centre for Independent Studies and the Institute of Public Affairs.

This discourse conflates the re-circulation of zombie products, programs, and ideas (aka Brain Gym, and “VAK” Learning Styles) with current education research, researchers, and university Initial Teacher Education. Writ large.

Seldom do those wielding this discourse acknowledge the potential commercial benefit from a new “open market”, cleansed of ‘hapless’ university academics and teacher educators.

Nor is it acknowledged that there is huge diversity in education researchers and in teacher education programs.

Never is solid evidence provided to support claims of charlatanry. We’re just inundated with the same claims time and again.

US far right figure and former Donald Trump advisor Steve Bannon calls it “flooding the zone”. And legitimate critique is in danger of being drowned out in the process.

Black and white

Let’s look at what Dwyer, Fuller and Humberstone said in a recent AARE EduResearch Matters blog, as this blog achieved national media attention, and most likely prompted the defensive responses.

I won’t republish the whole blog here but present this excerpt as an example of legitimate critique:

The evidence and resources presented by AERO appear to position teachers as incapable of understanding and interpreting research, then making professional judgments based on their students and the school content. AERO presents the research as if it was black and white – “proven”, incontestable facts. The evidence is presented as an instruction manual, with no space for professional judgments or critique.

I don’t read this passage as a misunderstanding of or argument against evidence-based practice. Rather, the authors are taking issue with the surety with which AERO is making claims about the evidence it has selected, and the level of prescription in the materials they produce.

I share these concerns. Researchers are trained (especially those in the cognitive sciences) not to speak beyond the data or to make causal claims.

This is why you will find words like “suggest” and “indicate” in peer-reviewed research publications, even when something has been shown to “work”.

AERO’s materials have not been subjected to the same rigour and do not reflect the same caution. Dwyer, Fuller and Humberstone are quite right to call that out.

Right on another level

But these authors are right on another level too. While their appeal to professional judgement has elsewhere been dismissed with the old “choose your own adventure” chestnut, professional judgement is critical in classroom teaching because nothing works for all students, all of the time.  

In my own field, inclusive education, flexibility is key. The more prescriptive we are with teachers, the less they will be able to mix things up when they need to.

Before anyone paints me as an apologist for whole language, discovery learning, Brain Gym, VAK learning styles (take your pick of the education evils), I’m not.

In fact, for the last five years I’ve been leading a major research project funded by the Australian Research Council that melds insights from the cognitive and communication sciences with those from inclusive education.

I also think cognitive load theory has much to offer instructional design, but it is not everything. And the evangelism with which it and other favoured practices are being disseminated by AERO risks swinging us to the other extreme.

A key tension

In writing up the findings from our ARC Linkage project in a new book for educators, I’ve struggled with a key tension that AERO has either resolved to their satisfaction or never contemplated in the first place, that is: what and how much to put out there, against what to hold back and why.

Our research suggests* that enhancing the accessibility of summative assessment task sheets significantly increases achievement outcomes for students with and without disabilities impacting language and information processing.

Great, right? Yes, it is. And we want every student in every classroom across Australia to benefit from this evidence.

But how to achieve this? We *could* develop a stack of accessible assessment task sheets and even create a commercial enterprise to pump it all out, pronto. Teachers won’t have to do a thing, we contribute to solving the workload problem, and we earn precious research income for all our effort.

Win, win, right?

Wrong. If we did that, we would rob teachers of the knowledge and skills they need to design accessible assessment. Knowledge and skills that they can later draw on to create modules in their school’s online learning management system or when developing learning resources.

We would also rob them of the creative and intellectual pleasure that can be found in the creation of said learning materials.

We would risk de-professionalising teachers more than they already have been by canned curriculum resources that promise to save teachers’ time, but which are inflexible, not appropriate for students with disability, and difficult/time-consuming to adjust.

So, we’re not doing that. We have made our resources freely available on our website in the hope they will do good in the world but are leaving teachers to make decisions about the curriculum content to go in those resources, and supporting as many as we can to do this with ongoing professional learning.

An urgent course correction needed

This decision goes to the heart of the concerns raised about AERO and the appeal by education researchers to not just preserve but to nurture teachers’ professional expertise and judgement.

This can’t be achieved by flooding the zone with practice guides, infographics, and narrow prescriptions to teach for how some students learn (with “tiered interventions” for the rest).

We’ll find that out in time.

My only hope is that the KPMG review leads to an urgent course correction because the criticisms of AERO are well-founded. It is time for the Commonwealth state, and territory governments to listen – and act.

Professor Linda Graham is Director of The QUT Centre for Inclusive Education (C4IE) at Queensland University of Technology. She leads several externally funded research projects, including the Accessible Assessment ARC Linkage. Linda has published more than 100 books, chapters, and articles, including the best-selling “Inclusive Education for the 21st Century”.


*See what I did there?

Students in Year 10 are set to choose senior subjects. Those with disability miss out. Why? 

It’s around this time of the year students in Year 10 across Australia attend career events and interviews to select their subjects in Year 11 and 12.  

Many students feel anxious about their future choices, leading to a variety of myths circulating among students, parents, and sometimes teachers.   

Making decisions about the future while still in secondary school can be a challenge for most young people, but it can be even more complex for students in equity groups, especially students with disability.   

Transition to post-school life  

Research on post-school transition and student aspirations suggests that higher socioeconomic backgrounds continue to shape aspirations towards prestigious careers and pathways. While gender and school achievement play a significant role in the decision to pursue university studies, schools’ geographic location and socioeconomic makeup can also impact the subject options available to students. 

In recent years, rapid changes to school-to-work pathways have resulted in fewer stable, long-term employment opportunities for young people. There is increased pressure on young people to pursue university pathways, a trend further reinforced by government higher education policies shaping public perceptions of what success after school looks like.  

Adding to the complexity is a vocational education and training (VET) system that is often undervalued, can be difficult to navigate, and is troubled by rogue providers.    

The Australian government has made significant changes to enabling programs designed to help students from equity groups access university education. However, government discourse and policies continue to portray students from equity groups as having low aspirations, while failing to adequately recognise the barriers these young people face during school years and beyond.  

Many students find themselves adjusting their aspirations downward as they navigate the realities and uncertainties of secondary school. Various forms of disadvantage, like living in a remote location and having a disability can also overlap and create additional barriers to achieving educational and career aspirations. 

Low aspirations or low expectations? 

Research on career aspirations of students with disability in regular schools in Australia is limited. My research, which focuses on the aspirations of students with disability in general education in Queensland, found that barriers often begin much earlier—sometimes in primary school or even before students start school.  

Most students in my study faced a culture of low expectations, inconsistent provision of reasonable adjustments, and inadequate consultation about their adjustment needs or their plans for life after school. These barriers significantly affected the options available to them in Year 10. 

Although the selection of senior subjects may not be the most significant factor influencing most young people’s careers, limited options during the senior phase of learning can further reduce opportunities for people with disability to pursue and realise their aspirations.  

Students with disability are more likely to have lower educational attainment,  experience bullying and be suspended, with almost 1 in 4 students with disability leaving school before the age of 15. Alternative pathways do exist, but they can be time-consuming and costly and may not translate into increased university participation. 

The Australian Universities Accord Final Report found that students with disability have achieved parity targets, so what is the problem? 

Disability advocates have criticised the Accord Report due to questionable data on disability prevalence and participation rates in higher education. More importantly, the Accord report concluded that it had done enough for students with disability.   

There is a lack of recognition in both school education and higher education policies regarding the need to invest in the educational achievement of students with disability. Despite poorer academic outcomes, students with disability continue to be left out of priority equity targets.  

The flow-on effect of educational barriers 

Young people with disability face ongoing barriers to finding and maintaining meaningful employment because of discrimination, a lack of employer understanding of reasonable adjustments, and inaccessible recruitment processes.  

For some disabilities, like autism, the unemployment rate is almost six times higher than that of those without disability and more than double the rate for people with disability. To improve employment outcomes and economic participation of people with disability, the Australian Government awarded $22.1 million to establish Australia’s first Disability Employment Centre of Excellence earlier this year. 

Re-imagining aspirations and achievement for students with disability  

Education is a human right that enables all other rights. Hence, schools and universities play a vital role in improving equity, inclusion, and participation of young people with disability in the Australian economy and society.  

While educational institutions in themselves cannot resolve labour market challenges or guarantee employment outcomes for students with disability, they have a moral and legal responsibility to provide access and participation of people with disability on the same basis as their peers without disability. Inclusive practices have also been shown to improve academic outcomes for students with and without disability.  

For Australia to realise its aspirations of excellence and equity as set in The Alice Springs (Mparntwe) Education Declaration, schools and universities must become genuinely inclusive. A prosperous future for Australia hinges on our collective commitment to advocate for all and ensure that no one is left behind.   

Lara Maia-Pike is a postdoctoral research fellow with the Centre for Inclusive Education at Queensland University of Technology. Her research focuses on student transitions and accessible practices. She is also a sessional academic in the School of Education.

What do you think: Will Labor fix higher education?

The recent federal election victory of the Albanese Labor government, which secured a larger majority in parliament, presents a unique opportunity to implement meaningful reforms in Australian higher education.

With this victory comes the responsibility to address longstanding issues in the tertiary education sector. It has long been treated as “a political punching bag”, says Associate Professor Milad Haghani of the University of Melbourne. Universities were particularly vulnerable during political debates about housing shortages, congestion, and migration associated with international students.

What was missing from these debates? The broader social, cultural, and long-term diplomatic contributions that international students make to Australian campuses and communities economically.

The current higher education landscape in Australia faces significant challenges regarding student completion rates. Social determinants play a vital role in determining who successfully completes university degrees. Recent research examining 2,528 Australian graduates who finished their degrees between 2018 and 2022 reveals various interconnected factors influence university completion, extending beyond assumptions that financial barriers are the primary obstacles to student success.

Higher Education Success Factor Framework: Evidence-Based Reform for Australian Universities

Our new research, published in Frontiers in Education, introduces the Higher Education Success Factor (HESF) framework. This is a validated tool that identifies and addresses the social determinants impacting Australian university students’ completion rates. We claim this study could provide timely and useful evidence to guide the implementation of the Federal Government’s Universities Accord reforms.

The HESF framework addresses a fundamental research question. “What are the main multidimensional factors influencing Australian students’ completion of a university degree?”

Confirming the data responses from over 2,200 Australian graduates, the research has validated both the 5-factor and 4-factor models measuring the social determinants of higher education success. These models examine five key areas: social environment (institutional support and inclusive policies), physical environment (facilities, housing, and safety), economic conditions (financial stability), health and wellbeing (mental and physical health), and individual characteristics (motivation and resilience).

The research reveals that health and well-being emerge as the most significant factors influencing completion rates, followed by individual characteristics and economic conditions. For Indigenous students specifically, economic challenges were identified as a critical barrier, but the research demonstrates that targeted support must address both financial and non-financial factors to be effective.

An opportunity now exists to fix the longstanding challenges in Australia’s Higher Education sector using evidence from the Higher Education Success Factor (HESF) framework as the Government implements the Universities Accord reforms, which aim to increase tertiary attainment to 80% of the workforce by 2050.

Key Findings from the HESF framework

  1. The research validated a streamlined 4-factor model that reduces redundancy while maintaining strong predictive power. The critical factors include:
    • Social environment (institutional support, inclusive policies)
    • Physical environment (facilities, housing, safety)
    • Health and economic wellbeing (financial stability, mental/physical health)
    • Individual characteristics (motivation, resilience)
  1. Based on surveys of 2,528 Australian graduates (2018-2022), the research identified health and wellbeing as the most significant factor influencing completion rates, followed by individual characteristics and economic conditions. 
  2. Among university graduates, Indigenous students’ economic challenges were identified as a critical barrier, underscoring the need for targeted support that addresses both financial and non-financial factors.

Alignment with the Universities Accord Implementation

The HESF framework directly supports the implementation of key elements in the Australian Universities Accord, which Minister Clare describes as “the biggest and broadest review of the higher education sector in 15 years.” These key elements are addressed below.

Supporting Needs-based Funding

The HESF research provides solid evidence for the Accord’s Needs-based Funding system, which will be implemented from January 2026. This funding model ensures “students from underrepresented backgrounds get the academic and wrap-around supports they need to succeed at university.” The Government has committed to demand-driven Needs-based Funding, meaning “funding for wrap-around supports will grow with each additional student, instead of having to stretch existing supports and services across more students.”

In its first year, the program will support approximately 140,000 students from low SES backgrounds and First Nations students, with regional contributions benefiting an estimated 150,000 students at regional campuses.

Informing the Australian Tertiary Education Commission’s (ATEC) Work

We believe that the research could also guide the work of the new ATEC which was established with $54 million in funding to “advise on and implement tertiary education reform, drive growth through equity and ensure our national skills needs are met.”

The HESF framework can inform ATEC’s approach to:

  • Determining allocations for the Managed Growth Funding system
  • Implementing Needs-based Funding as part of the core funding model
  • Negotiating enhanced mission-based compacts with providers

Enhanced Support for Students with Disabilities

Our research highlights the importance of non-financial factors such as social environment, physical environment, health, and economic well-being. The Government will quadruple the Higher Education Disability Support Fund, increasing funding by approximately $40 million annually. This boost will “help universities deliver more programs and services that empower students with disabilities to access, participate in, and succeed in higher education.”

Our recommendations for Implementation 

The HESF research suggests universities should:

  • Use the HESF model to audit existing support systems, identifying gaps in health services, mentorship, and infrastructure;
  • Integrate health and wellbeing support into strategic planning as a top priority, particularly for marginalised groups;
  • Create supportive environments that address academic, social, and emotional needs; and,
  • Targeted support for Indigenous students with both financial and cultural/social assistance.

Policy makers: The evidence from our large scale research conducted with 2,528 Australian graduates who graduated between 2018-2022 should not be overlooked. Instead policymakers could:

  • Ensure the ATEC incorporates the HESF framework in its Managed Growth Funding system oversight.
  • Balance financial initiatives (like the 20% HECS debt reduction) with structural support addressing non-financial barriers.
  • Measure success by enrolment numbers and completion rates across demographic groups.
  • Direct additional resources to regional campuses to address their unique challenges

Economic and Social Impact

The benefits are substantial for individuals—a median annual income increase of $30,000 for those with a bachelor’s degree compared to Year 12 completion.

Beyond individual benefits, the Department of Social Services estimates that “increasing educational attainment from year 12 to a higher education qualification lowers projected lifetime social security costs by an average of $12,000 (2021-22 dollars)” per person.

A pivotal contribution

The HESF framework could be used as a pivotal contribution to evidence-based higher education policy in Australia at a critical reform moment. As the Government implements the Universities Accord, this research provides the answers to student success as measured by completion rates.

The timing of this research aligns perfectly with Prime Minister Albanese’s commitment to higher education reform and the 20% student debt reduction. Together, these initiatives create a comprehensive approach to improving completion rates and addressing barriers that underrepresented students face.

By incorporating the HESF framework into policy implementation, Australia has the opportunity to transform equity goals into measurable actions and ensure its ambitious 80% tertiary attainment target becomes a reality. This will prepare more Australians for the jobs of the future while strengthening the nation’s position in the global knowledge economy.

Bios, from left to right

Thu Pham is a researcher at the Indigenous Research Unit, Griffith University. Her work focuses on Indigenous higher education and supporting Indigenous HDR student projects. Her research explores how university leadership can enhance Indigenous student success by improving student experiences and outcomes. She is on LinkedIn.

Angela Baeza Pena is a lecturer at Queensland University of Technology. She is Diaguita First Nation from Chile. Her PhD focuses on understanding the experiences of teachers and Indigenous community members in providing Indigenous education in rural and remote areas. Her research area includes Indigenous education, teacher professional development and higher education with Indigenous peoples. She is on LinkedIn.

Peter Anderson hails from the Walpiri and Murinpatha peoples of the Northern Territory and is the incoming Pro Vice Chancellor (Indigenous) at the University of New England. His research encompasses Australian Indigenous education, educational systems, curriculum, and pedagogical interventions, alongside the intersecting relationships with Indigenous peoples both globally and domestically. He is on LinkedIn.

Levon Blue is an associate professor at The University of Queensland in the Office of the Deputy-Vice-Chancellor Indigenous Engagement. Her PhD focused on financial literacy education practices in a First Nation community in Canada. She is a member of Beausoleil First Nation in Canada. Her research area includes financial literacy education and higher education with Indigenous peoples. She is on LinkedIn.

Retention: How to keep teachers

It’s no secret that Australia is in the grip of a teacher workforce crisis. The federal government review has revealed a shortfall of over 4,000 teachers, while reports and media headlines continue to highlight “critical teacher shortages”, “fears students will suffer as burnout contributes to ‘unprecedented’ teacher shortage” and other alarming trends. Amid this national narrative of crisis, one question is rarely asked: What about the schools that are managing to retain their teachers? What can we learn from them? What succeeds in teacher retention?

Rewriting the Narrative

Much of the current research and policy debate has rightly focused on why teachers are leaving the profession. The Australian Education Union’s 2024 State of Our Schools survey highlights chronic underfunding, excessive workloads, administrative overload, declining wellbeing, occupational violence, and limited career progression as key factors driving teachers out of the classroom. 

But understanding what’s driving teachers away is only half the story. The other half, arguably the more actionable part, lies in what enables teachers to stay.

We thus need to balance the debate by asking not only ‘Why are some teachers leaving?’ but also ‘How are some schools managing to keep their teachers, despite all the odds?’

This shift in perspective opens the door to learning from the ‘success stories’.

Learning from the Schools Getting Teacher Retention Right

There is a plethora of research on why teachers leave. And yes – workload, burnout, inadequate support, limited career pathways and housing stress all play major roles. It’s vital that we continue to examine these factors. 

But when the national conversation remains stuck on what’s going wrong, we risk missing the bigger picture: learning from some schools that are getting it right.

Across Australia, in the very places hardest hit by staffing shortages, remote towns, outer suburbs, low socio-economic communities, some schools are quietly bucking the trend. They’re not just holding onto teachers; they’re building stable, collaborative staff cultures where teachers stay and thrive.

These schools are not unicorns. They are real and they exist in the same policy and funding environments as those struggling with attrition. What sets them apart are the ways they’ve created spaces and structures that help their teachers stay the course.

Yet, these stories rarely make the headlines.

Where Community Keeps Teachers

Some schools are keeping their teachers not through flashy incentives, but by building strong local connections. Our recent research found that in hard-to-staff schools, what makes the difference is context, knowing the community, responding to students’ real lives, and creating a culture of care.

In one rural Victorian school, one principal talked about success coming from “translating” teaching to fit students’ needs and building trust with families, many of whom had negative experiences with school themselves. 

Another principal in outer Melbourne talked about the power of “boots on the ground” leadership, being present, responsive, and deeply embedded in the school community.

These schools don’t rely on top-down rules. They focus on relationships, inclusion, and flexibility. And it’s working. They’re holding onto their new teachers because those teachers feel connected, supported, and valued in their school communities.

In our Queensland case studies, what stood out was the basics done well. When schools offered practical support such as affordable housing and child care, paired with strong, empathetic leadership and a culture that trusted teachers to use their professional judgement, something powerful happened. Teachers stayed. 

Teachers told us they had the autonomy to do what they came into the job to do: make a real difference in the lives of kids. It’s about creating the conditions where teaching feels possible, purposeful, and sustainable.

Ditch the Deficit Talk

For too long, discussions about hard-to-staff schools are being dominated by a deficit narrative. We hear that “no one wants to teach there”. Or that “students are too difficult”, or that “nothing can be done unless the entire system changes”. These narratives paint an unfair picture of the students and communities. And they also risk devaluing the incredible work being done by teachers and leaders who are making a difference in these schools and their communities.

Focusing only on what’s broken can be deeply demoralising for those working in the system. It can lead to policy solutions that treat schools as sites of failure, rather than places of potential.

A more productive approach is to ask: where is retention working, and why?

By highlighting success stories, schools that have achieved relative workforce stability even in high-turnover contexts, we can identify practical, replicable strategies. We can also challenge the myth that teacher attrition is inevitable in certain places.

Let’s Celebrate What’s Working

It’s time we give credit where it’s due. There are principals across Australia who have created supportive, empowering work environments despite resource constraints. And there are teachers who stay, not out of obligation, but because they feel connected, respected, and supported in their professional growth. There are communities that rally around their local schools to ensure teachers feel welcomed and valued.

These efforts deserve recognition, not just as heartwarming exceptions, but as serious sources of insight.

Learning from what’s working allows us to shift from damage control to positive change. It equips other schools, policymakers, and education departments with ideas grounded in real-world experience. Most importantly, it gives the teaching profession, and the students who depend on it, something increasingly rare: hope.

To be clear, naming and addressing the problems driving teachers out of the profession is still essential. But we can’t afford to dwell solely on the negative. A deficit-only narrative will not lead to change. What we need now is a dual approach, one that recognises what’s wrong, and builds on what’s strong.

Let’s start recognising the schools that are holding on to their staff. And let’s amplify the voices of teachers who choose to stay. Let’s look beyond the crisis headlines and ask: what can we learn from the schools that have found ways to build a stable teaching workforce?

Amid the crisis talk, there are quiet successes all around us. We just need to start listening.

Bios

Babak Dadvand is a senior lecturer in pedagogy, professional practice and teacher education at La Trobe University, Australia. His research focuses on issues of equity and social justice in education, with a particular emphasis on preparing and supporting teachers to work in underserved and hard-to-staff school settings. 

Steve Murphy is a senior lecturer at La Trobe University and is informed by his experience as a teacher and educational leader in rural primary and secondary schools. His research focuses on teaching and school leadership practices. He is particularly interested in practices contributing to students’ engagement and achievement in STEM education. 

Terri Bourke is dean/head of school and professor at Queensland University of Technology and researches professional standards, professionalism, accreditation processes and diversity in education.

Reece Mills is an associate professor of education. He commenced his career in education as a secondary school science teacher before being appointed at QUT. Reece’s research aims to create ecologically and socially sustainable futures through education.

Scott Eacott is professor of education at UNSW Sydney. His current research looks at the systemic implications of housing and transport affordability for the teaching workforce.

Juliana Ryan is a senior lecturer in Teacher Education and Ethics in the School of Education at La Trobe University. Her deliberately diverse career has been shaped by a belief in the importance of social equity in and through education. Juliana has taught in community, carceral, vocational and university settings. 

Breakthrough: what we should do to build our teacher workforce

This is the first in a series of posts on education priorities for the 2025 federal election. Today’s posts are about boosting the teacher workforce.

Want to fix the teacher shortage? Start by giving teachers time to do their jobs 

Teachers aren’t leaving the profession because they’ve stopped caring. They’re leaving because they’re burnt out. Each day, they’re pulled in multiple directions, constantly interrupted, and overwhelmed by a stack of disjointed tasks. 

We call this time poverty, and it’s not a personal failing, it’s a systemic failing. The way teachers’ time is governed in schools is unsustainable. Unless this becomes an election priority, the workforce crisis will only deepen.

The cascade of constant demands

Using ‘time use’ data from our ARC Linkage project, we found that regardless of how positively a teacher began their day, they almost always ended it feeling rushed and overwhelmed by the volume of tasks they were managing. 

Importantly, teachers weren’t reporting this experience as an isolated bad day. It was their everyday reality. Teachers across all demographics, including school type and location, reported the same thing: they simply don’t have enough time to meet the demands placed on them.

The structure of the school day magnifies this problem. Teachers’ time is tightly managed, divided into timetabled periods, quick transitions between classes and subjects, and a series of fixed duties and meetings. 

No flexibility

There’s no flexibility to absorb the unexpected. 

A single disruption, like a behaviour incident, an unscheduled parent meeting, or an unexpected playground duty, can derail the rest of their day. We call this the cascade effect. When one task is delayed it pushes everything else – particularly those tasks that require focused attention like lesson planning, marking, and parent emails – into the evening.

The more these disruptions happen, the less time teachers have to do the work that professionally sustains them: the creative, relational, and intellectually rich parts of the job. Instead, their days become cycles of triage, where the goal is simply survival.

A problem of governance 

Time poverty in teaching is an effect of how teachers’ work is governed. Over the past decades, education systems have layered administrative tasks, performative accountability, and compliance mechanisms on top of the core business of teaching. This intensification reflects a model of governance that values documentation, oversight, and metric-driven performance.

It also shifts how time is experienced. We know the typical school day is increasingly fragmented, filled with interruptions, triaged priorities, high-stakes decision making and cognitively complex multitasking. Teachers often internalise these pressures, interpreting exhaustion as normal and equating busyness with professional commitment. In this way, overwork becomes not just expected, but legitimised.

Crucially, this culture of overwork is not experienced equally. It is deeply gendered. Women, who make up the majority of the teaching workforce, often shoulder the emotional labour of schooling alongside caregiving responsibilities at home. Many of the women we interviewed in our research described feeling torn between the expectations of their roles as teachers and their roles as caregivers. They feel they are never quite able to do enough in either space. 

While other professions have embraced flexibility and remote work, teaching necessarily requires a teacher in the classroom, working face-to-face with students. This physical presence is vital, not only for effective instruction, but also for the relational and pastoral dimensions of teaching that support student wellbeing. But the issue lies in how time is managed around this need. Teachers are still expected to be constantly available beyond the school day, even when they’re unwell. Many report having to prepare detailed lesson plans and resources for relief staff while sick or caring for others. In fact, some told us that they couldn’t take a day off because their students’ needs were too complex to entrust to someone else.

Physical presence

Teachers can never switch off from being available. They can never switch off from the emotional labour of caring for their students. 

Very few teachers reported they slept well at night, despite their exhaustion. This inflexible model of care-driven self-sacrifice is unsustainable. It also places a disproportionate burden on women, and continues to push them out of the profession.

Make teachers’ time a policy priority

It might be tempting to address the challenge of time poverty by offering quick fixes, like AI lesson planning. But this time dividend approach misses the point. Teachers value their lesson planning time. What they don’t value is being pulled into another initiative that draws them away from their core purpose.

Teachers don’t just need fewer hours. They need fewer heavy hours, with less disruption, less triaging, more predictability. That means giving teachers time not only to plan and teach, but to recover, reflect, and connect with students and colleagues in meaningful ways. It also means providing appropriate welfare support in schools to assist with student wellbeing. 

As we head into this election, all parties must treat teacher time as a policy priority. Workforce sustainability won’t be solved through recruitment alone; we need to focus on retention by making the job one that teachers can realistically and sustainably do. That means investing in time-conscious governance that not only reduces administrative burden but also values teacher autonomy, prioritises their wellbeing, and respects their need for a life beyond the classroom.

Anna Hogan is associate professor in the School of Education, Queensland University of Technology. Her research interests broadly focus on education marketisation, and related issues of privatisation and commercialisation. Her current research projects include: philanthropy in Australian public schools, teacher and school leader time poverty and the role of commercial curriculum resources on teachers’ work.

‘Woke’: Australian teaching must hold tight to the fair go

When asked last week what he would do about the “the woke agenda” in education, federal opposition leader Peter Dutton raised the prospect of tying government funding to teaching of the curriculum. He said: “Kids… should not be guided into some sort of an agenda that’s come out of universities”.

No details were offered as to what exactly this woke agenda is. Nor could anyone point to specific examples of what is currently being taught in Australian schools or universities that shouldn’t.

Dutton is copying Donald Trump. “DEI” has been branded as “woke” by Trump’s MAGA movement.

As citizens of a sovereign country, Australians might not pay all that much attention to what the president of another country says and does. But those politics are rearing their ugly heads here. It is time to pay attention.

Importation of Trumpian ideals, such as his war on ‘woke DEI policies’, threatens our way of life, one that has long been underpinned by the idea of a ‘fair go’ for all.

This is the essence of the trick being played. DEI is an acronym for diversity, equity, and inclusion. Turning these words into an acronym and dismissing them as ‘woke’ is a way of disguising what these groups are really against. They are against diversity, equity, and inclusion.

Let me say that again. They are against diversity, equity, and inclusion.

So, what are diversity, equity, and inclusion? Is the derisive branding deserved? Are they “an agenda that’s come out of universities”? 

Um, no. But these concepts do inform our teaching and it’s critical that they do. We will start with diversity and why it’s important to be aware of it.

Diversity

Recognising that people are not all the same and that we experience the world differently is not just common sense. It’s a necessity for good public policy decision-making. Let’s take what happened in Melbourne during COVID as an example.

Early in the COVID-19 pandemic, nine Melbourne public housing towers were placed in hard lockdown with no warning.  Bewildered residents were met by police who began locking entrances at the foot of the towers as the Victorian premier announced the lockdown via a televised press conference broadcast. In English. 

Many of the more than 3000 tower residents fled wars in their home countries. They were frightened because they could not understand what was being said. They did not, therefore, know what was going on. Imagine how they felt.

The whole situation could have been averted if those in charge of the emergency response had thought ahead about the need to communicate the need for the lockdown in a range of languages.

Looks like there were no bilingual people on that team, hey?

This is just one public policy fail due to lack of recognition that people are different and need different things. There are more. What about the Queensland government’s purchase of 75 new trains that did not meet disability access standards?

The lack of accessibility inconveniences people with a disability. It prevents them from getting to work or moving about freely as others do. But it also means the government must now spend even more to retrofit the trains.

Being aware of diversity, realising not everyone experiences the world the same way you do, and factoring it into decision-making is smart. It’s not ‘woke’. So is paying attention to equity.

Equity

The concept of equity is over 2000 years old, yet it is commonly misunderstood. It’s misunderstood – even by politicians, who really should know better, given our modern system of taxation is informed by the principle of distributive justice.

In a nutshell, equity is about fairness. The aim of equity policies is to reduce impacts of inequalities arising from circumstances individuals have no hand in choosing. This is what is meant by Aristotle’smaxim “Treat equals equally and unequals unequally”.

Right-wing commentators in the US and Australia have dismissed equity as ‘Cultural Marxism’ but they are wrong. It would be more accurate to describe them as Rawlsian, after Nobel Prize winning political philosopher John Rawls (1921-2002). His Theory of Justice articulates a range of principles aimed at resolving the tension between liberty (or freedom) and equality.

Veil of ignorance

One of  Rawls’s thought experiments asked us to imagine that we do not know our place in society, nor our abilities or talents. We are behind a ‘veil of ignorance‘. From this position, we are asked to design the rules and structures of society. 

When faced with making a decision without knowing our own position in society, Rawls reckoned we would each want to ensure that the least advantaged members of society are cared for because we might be among them

You can test this by getting two kids to divide a Mars Bar. The rule is that one divides it, and the other chooses from the results. Nine times out of 10 the divider will try to get the two halves as equal as possible because they don’t want to end up with the smaller bit. Smart, not woke.

In today’s world, Rawls might be described as a “latte-sipping leftie“, but he wasn’t and nor is the concept of equity. Extreme inequality is not a good thing. It dampens productivity, leads to revolutions, and is best avoided through mechanisms that enable a more even playing field. Mechanisms like inclusive education.

Inclusion

Within two months of Trump taking office, a teacher in Idaho was instructed by her school administration to remove a poster on her classroom wall because it was “an opinion” with which not everyone agrees.

The poster, which this brave teacher has since put back on her classroom wall, features images of children’s hands of varying skin tones with the statement, ‘Everyone is welcome here’.

Welcoming, respecting, and valuing diversity is a key principle of inclusion, an approach to education that seeks to remove barriers to access and participation with the aim of producing fairer (more equitable) outcomes for all.

While some right-wing commentators dismiss this as social engineering, greater equity in educational outcomes is good for everyone. Even those motivated purely by self-interest should be a fan of inclusion because more kids doing better at school means fewer unemployed adults on Jobseeker.

Removing barriers to access and participation is not “dumbing down” or “lowering standards”. It means getting rid of the things that get in the way so that everyone can achieve to their fullest potential.

That doesn’t mean that everyone gets an A or that everyone passes. It means that impediments that may prevent an individual from passing are no longer a factor in their achievement.

We’ve recently demonstrated that this approach benefits all students: those with a disability and those without. Why would anyone be against that?

Is any of this taught in universities?

Yes. Because Australia has laws against discrimination and university graduates must abide by them when they enter the workplace. 

As future architects, journalists, managers, doctors, teachers, nurses, and more (including politicians and political staffers), university graduates will one day make decisions that have the potential to impact other people.

Do we really want government procurement officers to continue purchasing trains that don’t meet accessibility standards?

And do we want government staffers to continue organising press conferences that exclude the very people at the centre of the crisis?

Do we want university graduates to find themselves in trouble with their employer’s Human Resources department because they have crossed the line in their interactions with others?

Ignorance of diversity, equity, and inclusion leave our institutions in danger of perpetuating unconscious bias and discriminating on the basis of race, gender, disability and other attributes that are protected by law.

Universities didn’t create those laws. Politicians did in response to public demand. And because history has demonstrated what happens in the absence of such laws.

Valuing diversity, aiming for equity, and being inclusive isn’t woke. It’s how mature liberal democracies survive, avoiding revolution through a social contract that prevents the depth of inequity that has upended so many nations over time.

We are now witnessing the wanton destruction of that social contract in the United States. Only someone who didn’t pay attention in their high school history class would invite that to Australia.

Linda J. Graham is director of the Centre for Inclusive Education and a professor in the School of Education at Queensland University of Technology (QUT). She is the editor of the best-selling book, Inclusive Education for the 21st Century: Theory, Policy and Practice, and is lead chief investigator of the award-winning Accessible Assessment ARC Linkage Project.

The header image of Peter Dutton, taken in 2021, is from Wikimedia Commons and used under this licence.

Emotional experiences of teaching: Toxic positivity and cruel wellbeing

Every school day, across the country, education professionals labour emotionally—in the classroom, in the staffroom, online. Yet the language available for talking about these experiences in public conversation has a history of being fragmented, inadequate and polarized as either overwhelmingly negative or unrealistically positive. 

Our new edited book from Palgrave Macmillan, Teachers’ Emotional Experiences, articulates emotional realities of the teaching profession. It introduces useful concepts for responding to them as teachers, teacher educators, school leaders and policy makers. Teachers want to have their emotional labour understood by the broader community. This is something that we have tried to honour in this book. Teachers want to be heard and seen by the public and recognised as professionals who labour under difficult conditions. 

Only very recently have we begun to publicly acknowledge teachers are struggling. They struggle under the weight of unrealistic expectations and mounting responsibilities of modern teaching. Teachers in Australia fulfil many vital roles alongside their obvious teaching roles. They are de facto security guards, counsellors, data administrators, co-parents, citizen makers and child minders for the economy. Based largely on interviews with 42 Australian teachers (from the NARRES research project) the book presents engaging stories of teachers who shared resonant emotional events with us and our fellow investigators*. Each chapter is focused on a teacher’s emotional story followed by an academic response from education researchers across Australia, Canada, the United Kingdom and Spain. Our book reveals how social and political pressures, intensifying workloads and lowered professional status are impacting teacher wellbeing and reshaping the profession. 

Emotional experiences: guilt, demoralisation, helplessness, alienation, anger

The teachers whose stories are included in the book experienced challenging and confronting emotions: guilt, demoralisation, helplessness, alienation and anger. The contributing authors show many of these feelings are generated from the systems, processes and structures of schooling, over which which teachers have little agency or autonomy. The book demonstrates that teachers strive to be ethical, empathic, passionate, and committed professionals. But at present this work is threatened by a range of issues including unnecessary administrative burdens, workload and time pressure, poor work-life balance, vicarious trauma and emotional burnout.

These threats are making it increasingly difficult for educators to make a meaningful difference to the communities that they serve. These themes are common fare for Australian educational research. But our book offers a fresh take by focusing on teachers’ emotional lives and foregrounding teachers’ own experiences. Each chapter begins with a narrative extract from the interviews. The authors in our book shine a light on the complexity and nuance of teacher emotions. These professionals now have a voice that does not have enough presence in public conversations.  

Foregrounding emotional experiences

One story in the book (co-authored by Saul Karnovsky and Susan Beltman) focuses on emotional labour in teaching. Alanna (a pseudonym) explains her thinking when confronted by a student who disclosed intentional self-harming behaviours in the classroom setting:

I guess I tried to put on a façade too as, in stay professional; I couldn’t cuddle her or say are you ok? I couldn’t go too deep into it, because I’m not trained in that area. So I was worried if I did say something, you may not think you are saying anything wrong but to them you have said something that is going to trigger them and they will do it again. So I didn’t want to do that, so I was like what do I say? Do I be nice? [Or] Do I just blow it off? Do I give her advice?

Emotional self-training

Alanna’s story describes a type of emotional self-training that teachers often undergo. She explains that she “tried to put on a façade” and “stay professional” during her encounter with the student. Karnovsky and Beltman explore how Alanna exerts substantial effort to modify her initial emotional response, that of feeling upset and helpless in the situation. Alanna enacts a deliberate process of feeling management to ensure her negative emotions will not be shown.

This form of emotional labour constitutes a vital element of teacher professional practice in modern school settings. Alanna’s experiences help sketch out the opaque contours of emotional rules in the teaching profession. These invisible boundaries delineate the difference between ‘appropriate’ allowable emotional expression and ‘inappropriate’ emotional expression that teachers learn to police. Teachers must navigate these tacit emotional borderlines. They must take care not to misstep, lest they be seen as “not right for the job”.

Profound emotional events

Like Alanna, many teachers experience profound emotional events in their working lives. As academics, we are able to provide insight into these events by bringing scholarly language, concepts and theories to interpret those experiences. Many teachers work in environments that do not support sharing the emotionally intense experiences that take place in their schools. ‘Solutions based’ leadership is in vogue within school management practice. But this approach can be an impediment that fails to connect with the complexity of context. The authors in our book discuss ‘teacher wellbeing’ as an inadequate lens through which to address teachers’ emotional experiences.

Many teachers are cynical of wellbeing programs and it can be cruel to expect overworked teachers to adopt these practices. They become a further load on top of all that was already present. The primary issue is that the ‘wellbeing’ approach typically places responsibility for positive emotional practice back upon the shoulders of individual teachers. A thread that runs throughout the book is that workplace emotions ought to be a shared responsibility. We suggest a more productive approach. That would be to focus upon reshaping the ways emotions are discussed, interpreted and communicated in the school context. 

Collaboration and collegiality

Sustained collaborative and collegial work is required to improve teachers’ working conditions and school climates. Leaders have positions of influence over school policy, climate and structures. They can cultivate trust and introduce practices that allow teachers time and space to decompress, take time away from the business of their work, find solitude when needed and come together in a spirit of honesty and of collective, localised strategic thinking. Policy makers must create the conditions for this important change to occur in schools by trusting our education professionals to create local solutions to issues present in their communities. 

Both in Australia and globally there is a turn towards a more critical and nuanced appraisal of teacher wellbeing. We are now recognising the problematic nature of toxic positivity and cruel wellbeing in schools, in which interventions made in the name of individual wellbeing and workplace positivity conversely lead to negative wellbeing outcomes.

Conversations about safety

Conversations about teacher safety, teacher workload and policy conditions shaping the retention crisis are reaching traditional and social media outlets. Community attitude is often on the side of teachers, and the inherent challenges posed by the modern structures of schooling have been laid bare by the COVID-19 pandemic. Now more than ever education research can provide a roadmap for the profession to reconstitute what is of value and what we hope to achieve through schooling systems. There are certainly models around the world to look to, where policy makers trust and value teachers as professionals, allowing them space, time and resources to focus on what matters most. There is a need for a shared discourse about teachers’ emotional concerns and the book aims to articulate some clear concepts for use by teachers and teacher educators alike.

* We wish to acknowledge Karen Peel, Debbie Mulligan, Bobby Harreveld, Nick Kelly and Patrick A. Danaher as Chief Investigators of the NARRES Australian research team who contributed the 42 teacher interviews.

Saul Karnovsky is a senior teacher educator and course coordinator at Curtin University, Perth which is located on Noongar Country. He is an active researcher in teacher wellbeing, attrition and retention taking an ethical and critical perspective on the profession.

Nick Kelly is an associate professor of design science in the School of Design, Faculty of Creative Industries, Education and Social Justice, QUT. His research investigates the foundations of design expertise and applies design science to educational contexts including design for learning, design pedagogy, and design of school environments.