A SHORT BIOGRAPHY
Daniela Falecki, founder of Teacher Wellbeing, is an international speaker, author, and the âkeep-it-realâ teacher, known for her high-energy, engaging presentations that leave audiences laughing and thinking. With over 25 years of experience in Australian schools and a background in Positive Psychology and Coaching Psychology, Daniela empowers educators globally to enhance their wellbeing. She holds a Masterâs in Education (Leadership) and has lectured at Sydney University, where she was named Lecturer of the Year in 2014. A licensed Mental Toughness practitioner and Executive Coach, Daniela is committed to supporting educators in thriving both personally and professionally.
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THE LONGÂ ANDÂ REAL STORY
Sitting at my desk, my head in my hands, trying to hide tears as they rolled down my face. Another argument with a student, a complaint from a parent and a deadline that was looming. I was done; the tank was empty; the system had won.
Twenty years of full-time teaching in the classroom and the job was getting harder, not easier. At first I thought if I worked smarter, longer hours, was better organised, or learned more, the job would surely get easier. From running to meet the endless, unreasonable timelines to drowning in administration, I had nothing left to give, so I slumped in defeat at my desk.
I always wanted to be a teacher. I was excited, passionate and giving. I wanted to make a difference in the world by helping people believe in themselves and I loved supporting them to thrive. Yet every week I was left shaking my head, feeling like I was herding cats. There were so many demands, reducing resources and I blamed myself for not working hard enough.
I felt alone ⌠Why werenât my colleagues working with me? Why were people making my job so much harder than it needed to be? Why was no one on my side or helping me? Well, that is how it felt anyway.
I later came to realise that everyone is doing the best they can with the resources they have. I have come to learn that many teachers are struggling, and we all respond in different ways. We are not alone, yet feel alone. This must change.
When looking back now, I cringe at how my induction as a new teacher occurred. I put a lot of pressure on myself to âget it rightâ , âbe rightâ and âdo it rightâ. I would often push myself by working longer and harder if things went wrong. If someone gave me feedback or highlighted something I had missed, I took it personally. I armoured my vulnerability with defensiveness, thinking I was being strong and professional when in fact I lacked social and emotional skills.
Each day I would wake up with sheer determination to give more and do more, only to be completely exhausted. I didnât know how to listen to my body, and I certainly didnât know how to communicate my feelings of overwhelm. If I wasnât working, I was feeling guilty about not working. My inner critic was strong and driving my behaviour.
To my colleagues, I was a high functioning âgo-getterâ, but most days I wanted to curl up in a corner and cry.
The challenge was I was always chasing a feeling of satisfaction, a feeling of knowing what I had done was âenoughâ. The problem was that nothing ever seemed enough. I thought, âIf I can just get this finished, then I will feel satisfiedâ, but just as one task was completed, another three filled the space. No matter what I did or how hard I worked, it was never enough, the job was never completely done. There was always more to do. It seemed that the harder I worked, the more there was to do. There was no time for whinging, you had to be creative, work with what you had and get the job done, regardless of context of circumstances.
I didnât realise there was another way. I didnât realise I was running to a place that had no finish line. I didnât realise I was allowed to enjoy the journey and, in fact, celebrate my hard work and impact. I didnât have the skills or resources to even think about my own wellbeing. Conversations about teacher wellbeing didnât exist when I started teaching. Instead, it was all about students and that was it. Thank goodness, this has now changed and we can all have a deeper, richer conversation about what wellbeing means to us and what it means for educators.
As I moved between schools I saw different faces, but it had the same pressure, demands, and expectations. The job was still tough with constant curriculum changes, compliance and expectations. With each advancement in technology came more to do. Studentsâ needs seemed to grow as did the drive for parent involvement.Â
I felt responsible for everyone in my care. I tried to âfixâ people and âfixâ situations. I put immense pressure on myself to help people who needed me, after all, I entered teaching because I care deeply about people. I knew I could be of service to them and went above and beyond to do just that. I listened at lunchtime, created fancy resources and advocated for them in welfare meetings when needed. I diversified lessons for gifted students and offered extra lessons for others. In holidays I would research new methods of teaching and source new resources. I loved helping people, but it came at a high price to my own wellbeing. I didnât know how to rest. I chose not to switch off and no one told me about the importance of emotional and mental recovery. Here I was putting all my energy into others, when what I needed was to put energy into myself.
I started to question if this was it. Was I really going to keep doing this for the next forty years? There had to be a better way. I knew I couldnât change the system, so I decided to change myself. I made the brave decision to seek counselling to embark on a journey of self-discovery. I was open and curious about new ways of thinking and being. After all, my way simply wasnât working.
Through bravery, courage and amazing support network, I asked for help. I studied, I reflected, I read and I listened. I had learned how to listen to my body, read emotions as signposts and practised self-care. I better understood how I processed stress and ways to manage it. I learned how to speak up and ask for help when I needed it and how to appropriately communicate feelings. I finally recognised no one could âmake meâ feel valued or âmake meâ work less. I was building my social and emotional competence.
I had been teaching SEL to students for years as a health educator, yet here I was only learning these skill myself for the first time. I took ownership of my decisions and learned to forgive myself when things didnât work out perfectly. I learned how to better communicate with others, how to be vulnerable and how to build psychological safety in relationships. A new chapter was emerging in how I practised self-care and interacted with others. I had a lens of curiosity instead of perfectionism. I was open to listening, learning and connecting better with others. My eyes were opening to a different way of being, I felt centred, confident and competent.
My journey of learning psychology, exploring new sciences and finding holistic ways of learning led me to studying Rudolf Steiner education for three years â a child-centred approach to education.  Unfortunately, the pressures in all schools seem to be the same. The demands are high, the resources low, and poor role clarity leaves you feeling like youâre never meeting needs. It got to the point where I was driving to work in tears through sheer exhaustion, finding a way to function through the day only to cry on the way home because there was still so much more to do. I couldnât sustain it any longer.
So here I was twenty years later with my head in my hands, about to make another difficult decision: walk away from the classroom. I had learned so much about myself and I knew I still had so much to learn. Â
What I know now is that wellbeing at work is complicated.
We as educators are responsible for our own self-care but schools as organisations need to take responsibility for how work is designed. While school leaders are not solely responsible for the wellbeing of every employee, they do need to create the conditions for shared understanding of social norms and to explicitly identify hazards that may cause psychological harm with measures to reduce or limit their impact. If we are going to thrive at work, we must work together.
Teaching has always been my first love and despite leaving the classroom, I have always remained close. Whether it was through university lecturing, school consulting and writing programs for organisations, I still have a passion for helping people thrive. I have consulted with top private schools to plan outdoor education programs and designed curricula for not-for-profit organisations. I have braved casual teaching across many schools and systems, teaching subjects and languages I had no idea about. The more I moved between schools, the more I saw teachers calling out for support.
I listened to staffroom cynicism and avoided passive-aggressive behaviours where possible. I watched teachers bicker over what they perceived to be fair as they argued who was busier. With every new staffroom, I saw the mirror of how I used to be. I saw their lack of social and emotional competence, lack of psychological capital and failure of a system who was not supporting them. I listened with compassion and offered small insights where possible.
If only they had my new eyes. If only they knew there was another way, there were things they could do for themselves and each other. My new mission had been born, I was going to focus on teacher wellbeing.
Now I have the privilege of working with hard working educators around the globe. For the past ten years through my company âTeacher Wellbeingâ, I have worked with thousands of teachers across early childhood, primary, secondary and tertiary institutions. Through workshops, consulting and coaching, it warms my heart to see big-hearted humans move from exhausted to energised. Whether itâs one-day programs or long-term projects, itâs inspiring to witness transformative change.
When teachers have opportunities to stop, reflect and connect in meaningful ways, magic happens. I continue to be inspired by their bravery in challenging the status quo. It is an honour to advocate for their needs and be a voice to so many who donât feel heard.
It is past time to make these wishes a reality.
Teaching isnât about doing more; itâs about being more. After all, you are a âhuman beingâ, not a âhuman doingâ. Iâve learned that it is important to practise self-care and the system has a responsibility to support you too.
Itâs not good enough to say, âThis is how we do it because we have always done it this way.â We need to question processes, review policies and work together to ensure teachers are given every opportunity to be their best for students.
We need to see teachers as people; after all, they are the ones that make learning happen. We need to prioritise the wellbeing of teachers just as we prioritise the wellbeing of students. Student wellbeing begins with teacher wellbeing.
I look forward to sharing in the journey with you as we explore ways in which can thrive.
Always remember ⌠you matter!
Daniela Falecki
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