Finding presence in the middle of upgrades, glitches, and shifting systems
It was the third day of the semester. I had my lesson lined up, the students were settled in, and I clicked open the brand-new attendance system our college had just rolled out. And of course—nothing. The screen froze, the system wouldn’t load, and for a good minute or two, the whole room was watching me battle a spinning wheel.
I’ll be honest: I felt that old heat of frustration rise up. I had worked hard to be ready for them, and here was this system—supposed to make my job easier—putting a wall between me and the very students I was here for.
But then I looked up. A student caught my eye, and I just smiled and said, “Well, I guess today we’re doing this the old-fashioned way.” The class chuckled, I pulled out a notepad, and just like that, the tension broke. What mattered most wasn’t whether I could log in, but whether I could be present.
The Landscape Teachers Face
Most of you aren’t dealing with Zoom boxes anymore—you’re back in your classrooms, face-to-face. But technology hasn’t stepped quietly into the background.
Now it often looks like this:
A new grading or attendance platform rolled out with little training.
Wi-Fi sputtering just when you need it most.
Multiple systems to juggle—each one demanding a login, a password, a slice of your attention.
I know for early-career teachers, this can feel overwhelming. You’re still learning your students’ names, and already it seems like you’re being asked to master half a dozen new platforms. Let me say this clearly: the frustration you feel is not a reflection of your ability. It’s the systems asking too much, too fast.
Why It Feels So Heavy: Psychology Corner
There’s actually a lot of psychology that helps explain why these tech challenges weigh so much.
Cognitive Load Theory (Sweller, 1988) tells us that our brains have a limited “working memory” space. Every new platform, every password reset, every glitch adds another layer of mental effort. It’s like trying to hold too many tabs open in your mind at once. That load doesn’t just take energy—it robs you of the space you need for creativity, flexibility, and connection with your students.
And then there’s the research of Christina Maslach and Michael Leiter on burnout. One of their big findings is that burnout thrives where people have little control. Sound familiar? When new systems are dropped in your lap with no training or choice, you feel powerless—and that’s draining.
The hopeful part is this: once you recognize these dynamics, you can stop blaming yourself for the fatigue. It’s not that you’re “bad with technology.” It’s that the human brain is only designed to carry so much, and the heart of teaching was never meant to be reduced to troubleshooting.
Reframing Technology’s Role
So how do we hold this lightly? I think it starts with remembering that technology is a tool, not the teacher. You get to decide how much space it takes in your classroom.
Here are some small shifts to consider:
- Go small. Instead of trying to master everything at once, choose one feature of one tool to focus on this semester. Give yourself permission to learn slowly.
- Let tech carry the paperwork. Use it for what drains you—grades, rosters, reminders—so you can be fully present for what matters: the relationships.
- Flip the frustration. When glitches happen, let them be a pause point. Laugh with your students. Tell a short story. Ask a quick check-in question. Those moments often end up being the ones that stick.
A Spiritual Anchor
Micah 6:8 asks us: “What does the Lord require of you but to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God?”
To me, that verse is about remembering where the heart of our work lies. It isn’t in flawless systems. It’s in justice—in caring well for our students. It’s in mercy—in the patience we extend to ourselves when things break down. And it’s in humility—in knowing that connection was never meant to depend on perfect Wi-Fi, but on steady presence.
Moving Forward with Lightness
As you step into this year, give yourself permission not to master every platform at once. Anchor first in presence. Choose one tool that genuinely lightens your load, and let the rest wait.
Reflection prompts:
What is one tech tool that truly makes my teaching easier?
Where do I notice technology pulling me away from students?
How can I turn the next glitch into a moment of connection?
The systems will keep shifting. There will be updates, breakdowns, and new rollouts. But the constant—the part that doesn’t change—is your presence. And that, more than any platform, is what your students will remember.
