The story of Rhonda Hicks in the recent Associated Press article about teacher burnout impacting educators of color is one that I’ve heard many times before – and also experienced firsthand.

Hicks, a Pennsylvania educator, is preparing to retire in a few weeks at age 59. But she told the AP she’d happily continue teaching into her 60s if circumstances were different. She’s a Black educator teaching Black kids in America, so I understand intimately why she wants out: I was once a Black educator teaching Black kids in America.

Rocked by a layoff at the beginning of the Great Recession in 2008, I started substitute teaching to keep the lights on. I went back to school in 2010 to obtain my master’s degree and high school teaching certification.

I briefly taught at a charter high school on Chicago’s far south side, with a 98 percent Black (and 2 percent Hispanic) student population. Every morning, I had to teach for four hours straight, with five-minute “breaks” for passing periods; our 35 minutes for lunch - the only true break in the day - were often cut short when the students were sent back to our classrooms early.

The teachers weren’t unionized, so the administration would tack on hours of unpaid work to our schedules at their leisure. As soon as the recession eased up and I found a writing gig, I fled the profession. However, I spent years supplementing my writing career by substitute teaching for Chicago Public Schools.

Most people know that teaching children and teens in general is not for punks. But since COVID-19 graced us with its presence, it seems like there’s been an uptick on stories of teacher shortages and struggles to get schools back on point post-pandemic. And, of course, the evergreen stories about how teachers are underpaid and overworked.

In fact the latest statistics show that in June 2023 alone, 53,000 teachers and educational staff left their jobs.

I can write about teaching, and Hicks can tell you about it in interviews, but there’s nothing quite like experiencing it firsthand; it’s the difference between blaming LeBron James for the fact that eighth graders at his “I Promise” school aren’t passing the math proficiency test and recognizing the issue is much deeper than a failed “promise.”

In the interest of simplicity, I’ve pinpointed five issues that make being Black and teaching Black kids, at once, a true labor of love and an exercise in abject frustration.

• The first is managing issues intrinsic to kids who grow up in the ‘hood. White supremacy and systemic racism allow for a stew of intergenerational maladies that don’t have an end in sight. Many of the behavioral issues I encountered in the classroom were the result of children bringing at-home issues to school – it’s hard to focus on speech writing when your mother’s boyfriend is sexually abusing you and she’s not around to stop it because of her third-shift gig.

The best teachers know how to navigate these issues. They don’t scream to the heavens at them out of frustration (as I did as a new teacher at age 30); they become a safe space for their 120-some students, adopting an almost familial caretaker role that isn’t in their job description.

The third issue is dealing with administration, or the principals and directors forced to manage their school with more of a focus on the data-driven bottom line than the nuances of culture building that you see at higher-performing schools. Many admins are former teachers who are forced to shift their focus to the demands of CEOs and school boards – a true s—t-running-downhill dynamic.

Next is the issue of compensation: The alarmingly low rate of Black male teachers is, in large part, attributed to low pay. Making $50,000 before taxes and being expected to come out of your own pockets for supplies, on top of dealing with the aforementioned madness, is sustainable but for so long…especially if you have or aspire to have a family. Because love of any gig alone has never paid the bills.

It’s an interminable cycle, for which we’ve yet to find a true fix.

Indeed, the broken American education system is bigger than Black and brown students, but it’s statistically and historically more of a detriment to us. Realistically fixing the system requires fixing capitalism and institutional racism – which is a battle akin to ice skating uphill.

We need more Black teachers willing to stay in the profession for the long haul. I just don’t know how to keep them from doing what I did.

Dustin J. Seibert is a native Detroiter living in Chicago. He loves his own mama slightly more than he loves music and exercises every day only so his French fry intake doesn’t catch up to him. Find him at wafflecolored.com.