Last week, my colleague Jessica asked me why I'm not on TikTok sharing my classroom tips. "Maria, you've got twenty-two years of experience! Think of all the teachers you could help!"

She's not wrong. I do have stories. Like the time I accidentally taught fractions using pizza slices for three weeks straight because one lesson went viral in my classroom (not the internet kind of viral, just the good old-fashioned "Mrs. Santos, can we do pizza math again?" kind).

But here's the thing. I'm not on Teacher TikTok, and I'm okay with that.

The Pressure to Perform

Don't get me wrong. I love seeing creative teachers share their ideas. Some of those classroom transformations are absolutely gorgeous, and I've definitely borrowed a few anchor chart ideas from Instagram.

But somewhere along the way, teaching started feeling like it needed to be performance-ready. Every bulletin board Instagram-worthy. Every lesson TikTok-able.

Mija, I can barely get my copies made before first period, and you want me to film content?

Real Teaching Isn't Always Pretty

Here's what my classroom actually looks like most days: There's usually a stack of papers I haven't graded yet on my desk. My bulletin boards get updated when I remember, which is maybe once a quarter. And sometimes, my most effective math lesson happens when little Marcus (not my son, my student Marcus) suddenly gets long division while we're working with manipulatives on the carpet.

Those breakthrough moments don't happen on cue. They happen during the messy, unfiltered parts of teaching.

Last month, I had one of those days where nothing went according to plan. The projector died during our math warm-up, three kids forgot their lunch money, and somehow we ended up having an impromptu lesson about respect because of a playground incident.

But you know what? That "ruined" day led to some of our best discussions about problem-solving. Both mathematical and social.

The Comparison Trap

I'll be honest. Sometimes I scroll through teacher content and feel a little inadequate. These teachers have amazing classroom libraries with color-coordinated bins. Their desks are spotless. Their students sit in perfect rows, hands folded, eyes bright.

Then I look at my classroom with its mismatched chairs and the reading corner that's really just a rug I got on clearance five years ago.

But here's what I've learned: comparison is the thief of joy, especially in teaching.

My students don't care that my classroom doesn't look like a magazine spread. They care that I know Aiden struggles with reading but loves graphic novels, so I make sure to include those in our library. They care that I remember Sofia's mom is working two jobs, so I quietly make sure she gets extra snacks from our classroom stash.

Finding Your Own Way to Share

Just because I'm not on TikTok doesn't mean I don't share what I've learned. I mentor new teachers at my school. I write these blog posts for teachers like you. I share resources with my team during our planning periods.

When our FAST scores came back last spring, I showed my colleague how I use this tool called FastIXL to quickly match the assessment data to specific IXL skills for my students. Nothing fancy, just practical help that saves time.

Sometimes the most meaningful sharing happens one teacher at a time, not one thousand followers at a time.

The Beauty of Being Offline

There's something freeing about not documenting every moment for content. When I'm working with a struggling student, I'm fully present. When we're celebrating a breakthrough, I'm not thinking about camera angles.

My energy goes into my actual students, not my online presence.

Don't get me wrong. If creating content energizes you and helps other teachers, that's wonderful. We need those voices too.

But if you're like me and feel overwhelmed by the pressure to be online, let me give you permission: You don't have to be on every platform. You don't have to share every idea. You don't have to perform your teaching.

What Really Matters

At the end of the day, our impact isn't measured in likes or shares. It's measured in the moments when a student finally understands a concept they've been struggling with. It's in the relationships we build. It's in the safe space we create in our classrooms.

My husband Carlos always says I bring too much work home, but he doesn't understand that teaching isn't just a job. It's a calling. And sometimes that calling means staying offline so you can be fully online with your kids.

For the Teachers Feeling Behind

If you're reading this and feeling like you should be doing more online, creating more content, sharing more ideas, take a breath.

You're enough. Your teaching is enough. Your impact is enough.

The student who finally grasps multiplication because you took the time to find the right manipulatives doesn't care if you have a TikTok account. The parent who thanks you for believing in their child doesn't follow you on Instagram.

Your worth as an educator isn't tied to your online presence.

Moving Forward

So no, I'm not on Teacher TikTok. I'm in my classroom, doing the quiet work of teaching. Building relationships. Making mistakes and learning from them. Celebrating small victories that no one will ever film.

And that's perfectly okay.

What about you? Are you feeling the pressure to be everywhere online? Remember, you get to choose how you share your gifts with the world. Whether that's through social media, mentoring, writing, or simply being the best teacher you can be in your own classroom.

We're all in this together, online or off.