Last week, my daughter Daniela called me from college laughing. "Mom, I just saw this TikTok of a teacher doing this elaborate bulletin board reveal with trending music and perfect lighting. It reminded me of your bulletin boards held up with masking tape and prayers."

Ay, gracias mija. Nothing like your own kid to keep you humble.

But you know what? That conversation got me thinking about something I've been wrestling with for months. Every time I scroll through my Facebook feed, I see another teacher talking about their viral TikTok or their Instagram classroom tours. Meanwhile, I'm over here trying to figure out why my document camera keeps cutting out during math lessons.

The Pressure is Real

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing but respect for teachers who are crushing it on social media. Some of them are creating genuinely helpful content, and more power to them. But somewhere along the way, I started feeling like I was missing something important by not jumping on the TikTok train.

The pressure crept up slowly. First, it was just curiosity. Then I started wondering if I was falling behind professionally. Was I not innovative enough? Not tech-savvy enough? Not... enough?

Carlos found me one evening staring at my phone, watching teacher after teacher show off their perfectly organized classrooms and color-coordinated everything. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Research," I mumbled.

"Looks like torture to me."

Sometimes electricians are pretty smart.

The Reality Check I Needed

Here's what snapped me out of it. Last month, during our faculty meeting, our principal mentioned that test scores in my classroom had improved significantly over the past two years. Not because I had the most Instagram-worthy bulletin boards or the trendiest classroom management system.

My scores improved because I spent that time actually working with kids.

While other teachers were filming content, I was staying after school with Miguel, who finally grasped long division after we worked through it using his beloved Pokemon cards. While others were perfecting their ring light setup, I was calling Sophia's mom to celebrate her first A on a math test.

I'm not saying this to throw shade at teacher influencers. I'm saying it because I needed to remind myself what actually matters in our profession.

What We're Really Here For

After 22 years in the classroom, I've learned that the best teaching moments rarely happen when cameras are rolling. They happen in the quiet conversations before school starts. They happen when a struggling student finally gets it, and their whole face lights up. They happen in the messy, imperfect, beautifully human moments that don't translate well to social media.

Remember when teaching used to be about closing your classroom door and working magic with your kids? Pero now we feel pressure to document everything, share everything, perform everything.

I miss the simplicity of just teaching.

The Time Factor Nobody Talks About

Let's be honest about something else. Creating good social media content takes time. A lot of time. Time that I'd rather spend planning engaging lessons or grading papers or, heaven forbid, having dinner with my family without thinking about work.

I calculated it once. If I spent just 30 minutes a day creating and posting content, that's 2.5 hours a week. Over a school year, that's more than 90 hours. Ninety hours I could spend actually teaching, planning, or living my life.

Marcus asked me last week why I always seem stressed about school stuff. That hit hard. I realized I'd been adding unnecessary pressure to a job that already comes with plenty of its own stress.

Finding Your Own Path

Here's what I want every teacher reading this to know: you don't have to be on TikTok to be a good teacher. You don't have to have a perfect classroom aesthetic or viral lesson plans. You don't have to perform your teaching life for the internet.

Some of the best teachers I know have never posted a single classroom photo online. They're too busy actually teaching.

If social media brings you joy and helps you connect with other educators, that's wonderful. Keep doing it. But if it feels like another item on your already overwhelming to-do list, give yourself permission to skip it.

What I Do Instead

So what do I do with the time I'm not spending on teacher TikTok? I read actual books about pedagogy. I collaborate with my grade-level team on lesson plans. I call parents with good news about their kids. I take professional development courses that actually help me in the classroom.

And sometimes, I just sit on my couch and watch Netflix without feeling guilty about it.

The Bottom Line

Social media has convinced us that if we're not sharing our teaching lives online, they don't count somehow. But the opposite is true. The most meaningful parts of teaching happen in private moments between you and your students.

Those moments don't need an audience to be valuable. They don't need likes or shares or comments to matter. They just need you, present and engaged, doing the work you were called to do.

Your worth as a teacher isn't measured in followers or views. It's measured in the growth of your students, the relationships you build, and the difference you make in young lives every single day.

And that work, that beautiful, messy, important work, is more than enough.

Trust me on this one. After 22 years, I know what real teaching looks like. And it doesn't need a ring light.