That’s how much time I had between getting hired and standing in front of my very first classroom.
Two days.
No Meet the Teacher Night. No classroom setup. No mentor showing me the ropes. No idea what I was actually walking into.
Looking back, I made almost every mistake a first-year teacher can make.
But those mistakes taught me lessons that no education program ever did.
So if you’re about to start your first year teaching, or you’re somewhere in the middle of it wondering if you’re the only one struggling, then you are who I created PerpiVio for.
Hi, I’m Joe, and welcome to Prepivio.
I started PrepiVio because I remember exactly what it felt like to be a brand-new teacher. Excited, overwhelmed, and constantly wondering if I was doing enough.
My goal here is simple: help new teachers build confidence, save time, and avoid learning every lesson the hard way like I did.
Today, we’re taking a trip back to my first year in the classroom and walking through the ten biggest lessons I learned. If even one of these saves you a stressful day, or gets you closer to becoming the teacher you want to be, then this project was worth making.
Let’s take a step back to the very first mistake I ever made as a teacher.
The very first thing I learned?
An hour is a LOT longer than you think.
It was Wednesday morning—the very first day of school.
I had just finished teaching my very first lesson.
Honestly, I thought it had gone really well.
I introduced myself, told the students a little about who I was, went over the syllabus, and wrapped everything up with a simple getting-to-know-you activity.
Nothing revolutionary. Just what I remembered the first day of school feeling like when I was a student.
Then I got to the last student in the room.
They finished introducing themselves…
…and I looked up at the clock.
There were still twenty minutes left in class.
Twenty. Entire. Minutes.
At first, nobody said anything.
Twenty-five students just stared at me…
…waiting for whatever came next.
The only problem was…
There wasn’t anything next.
That was the lesson.
I had planned exactly enough material to get through what I thought was a full class period.
Turns out, it wasn’t even close.
After a couple minutes, students started whispering.
Then they started talking to the people sitting next to them.
Then the conversations spread across the room.
Before I knew it, students were yelling across the classroom.
And just like that…
I had lost control of my classroom on Day One.
I ended up learning… and relearning… this lesson several times during those first few weeks.
If you think you’ve planned enough…double it.
Seriously.
Even if you’re convinced there’s absolutely no way your students could finish everything you’ve planned…
…plan something else anyway.
My first principal gave me one piece of advice that’s stuck with me ever since.
She said,
“If students are engaged from bell to bell, they’re far less likely to find trouble.”
And after almost every year since then…
I’ve found that to be true.
The goal isn’t to keep students busy just for the sake of keeping them busy.
The goal is to keep them engaged.
Because engaged students learn more…
…and they usually behave better, too.
Teacher Takeaway
Before every lesson, ask yourself:
“If we finish ten minutes early…what’s next?”
Always have something in your back pocket.
Actionable Tip:
Always Have:
discussion questions
review games
extension activity
exit ticket
In fact, if you’re planning your first week of school right now, I’ve put together the exact first-week lesson plans I wish I’d had during my first year. You can download them for free using this link.
Your Students Will Test Every Rule
The second lesson I learned was that your students will test every rule you put in place.
Not because they’re bad kids…
But because they’re kids.
And they’re trying to figure out where the boundaries are.
Before I became a teacher, I always thought I had a pretty good read on people.
I knew how to be approachable.
I knew how to build relationships.
I figured if I treated people with respect, they’d naturally respect me back.
And honestly…
In most professional settings, that’s true.
But a classroom isn’t most professional settings.
My first teaching job was in a small rural district with an incredible community and some genuinely great kids.
We didn’t have a long list of school-wide rules, and teachers had a lot of autonomy in how they ran their classrooms.
I loved that.
Until I accidentally taught my students a lesson I never intended to teach.
It was a few days before Thanksgiving break.
Everyone could feel the excitement building.
One of my favorite students walked up and asked,
“Hey, Mr. P, can I show you something?”
They pulled out their phone to show me pictures from a hunting trip they had just gotten back from.
You could tell they were proud.
So…
I let it slide.
It seemed harmless.
The next day another student wanted to show me pictures of a car they were rebuilding with their dad.
I let that one slide too.
Then another student had their phone out.
Then another.
Before long…
Kids were checking their phones in the middle of lessons.
And suddenly I found myself trying to enforce a rule that I had unknowingly started to erase.
Every exception becomes the new expectation.
It wasn’t because my students were trying to manipulate me.
They were simply watching what I actually allowed—not what I said.
Kids learn your expectations from your actions far more than your words.
That’s when I realized something that has stuck with me ever since.
Students don’t expect you to be perfect.
They expect you to be consistent.
Consistency creates trust.
Consistency creates fairness.
And consistency makes classroom management so much easier.
Teacher Takeaway
Before school starts, write down the five classroom expectations that matter most to you.
Not twenty.
Five.
Then ask yourself:
“Am I willing to enforce these every single day?”
If the answer is no…
It’s probably not a rule worth making.
One of the best pieces of classroom management advice I’ve ever received is this:
Start firm, then earn the right to be flexible.
It’s much easier to loosen a rule later in the year…
Than it is to tighten one after students have already decided it doesn’t really matter.
Relationships Matter More Than Perfect Lessons
This is a lesson that I feel every teacher has heard.
Every year.
At every professional development session.
From every administrator.
But that is honestly for good reason.
I had this kid who was never necessarily a problematic student, but also didn’t really engage with my lessons, other students, or really seem like they wanted to be at school all that much.
He was like a riddle I was trying to solve.
I wanted to make that connection with him but I couldn’t figure out what made him tick.
I listened to him talk to the one other kid in class that he seemed to socialize with.
I talked to his other teachers. They all just told me that he was a quiet kid that didn’t have the best home life, but that he wasn’t a trouble maker so they didn’t really dig much deeper then that.
And what the other teachers said was true.
I could have left it alone and he would have continued to not be an issue, and just glide through school like he always had. But, now it felt like a challenge to me to figure him out.
One of my other students begged me to come to the next school performance that the drama department was putting on. I went and enjoyed watching some of my students do what it was that set their souls on fire.
My student that never really said much was also a part of the team of students that put on this performance.
He wasn’t acting or singing or anything, he was in charge of the lights and sound.
He took it very seriously.
I went up to him after the performance and told him that the team had put on a great performance and that I couldn’t wait to see what they had planned for the spring.
I didn’t think much of it, but as time went on and we came back from the winter holiday break, he waited after class in order to give me a program for the spring play that was coming up.
Again I went.
And again he was in charge of lights and sound.
Again I complimented him on a job well done.
Then, the next day I got a “good morning Mr. P”
Which then turned into a raised hand in class.
And eventually a more engaged student.
It was never anything big, but he was actually trying for me.
It showed me that kids notice those that show up for them.
It turned out that his dad had passed away, and his mom was working two jobs just to keep things together for him and his brother.
He didn’t blame anyone for the cards he’d been dealt.
But it had been a long time since someone had simply shown up for him.
And that’s what changed everything.
It wasn’t a perfectly designed lesson.
It wasn’t some incredible classroom activity.
It wasn’t a reward system or a behavior strategy.
It was two evenings spent sitting in an auditorium watching students do something they loved.
That experience completely changed the way I thought about teaching.
We spend so much time worrying about whether our PowerPoints look good enough…
Whether our lesson plans are engaging enough…
Whether our classroom decorations are Pinterest-worthy…
But your students probably won’t remember your best worksheet five years from now.
They’ll remember the teacher who believed in them.
The teacher who noticed them.
The teacher who showed up.
If you’re a first-year teacher, you’re probably putting a lot of pressure on yourself to have the perfect lesson every single day.
I know I did.
But if there’s one thing I’d encourage you to focus on instead…
It’s building relationships.
Because students are far more willing to learn from someone they know genuinely cares about them.
Teacher Takeaway
This week, show up for one student outside of your classroom.
Go to the football game.
Attend the band concert.
Watch the school play.
Cheer at the wrestling match.
Or just ask a student about something they care about.
You never know which small moment will become the reason a student starts believing that someone at school is in their corner.
Don’t Teach Alone
One of the biggest mistakes I made as a young teacher was thinking I had to figure everything out by myself.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
A year after teaching middle school social studies, I accepted a position teaching 11th Grade U.S. History.
I was excited…
…until I actually met my students..
I was used to the feral, crazy, awkward pre-teens that I had taught the year before.
A little loud.
Okay, a lot loud.
Rambunctious.
And overall, wanting to test boundaries at every step.
Then I walked into a room full of juniors.
Nearly adults.
Sitting quietly.
Just staring at me.
I asked them to get up and move around the room for an activity…
…and they looked at me like I had completely lost my mind.
I was in over my head.
To be honest I started to panic.
I thought that I had made a mistake coming up to the high school.
As the weeks went on, I noticed something.
My students kept talking about one teacher.
“Mr. H said…”
“Mr. H does…”
“Mr. H lets us…”
Eventually I thought…
I should probably go meet this guy.
Mr. H had taught in that school for decades.
Not only had he taught many of my students…
He’d taught many of their parents too.
He knew the community.
He knew the students.
And thankfully…
He was incredibly generous with his time.
One day he invited me to sit in on one of his classes.
I wasn’t there to copy him.
I was there to learn how another great teacher thought.
His students were writing research papers.
But instead of assigning everyone the exact same topic…
They got to choose their own argument.
At one point he casually mentioned scandals involving famous people as an example.
It wasn’t even the focus of the lesson.
But for me…
It was a lightbulb moment.
We were about to start our Great Depression unit.
If I’m being honest…
It isn’t exactly the topic students get excited about.
So I asked myself…
What if they became investigative journalists instead of history students?
I had students research famous figures from the Great Depression era and write “yellow journalism” newspaper articles exposing scandals, criticizing politicians, and creating sensational headlines based on historical evidence.
Presidents, First Ladies, business moguls.
The creativity was unbelievable.
Students designed authentic-looking newspapers in Canva.
They debated historical decisions.
They dug into primary sources.
They actually cared.
I was so proud of what they created that I hung their newspapers in the hallway for the entire school to see.
And to this day…
It’s still one of my favorite lessons I’ve ever taught.
But here’s the thing…
That lesson wasn’t really my idea.
It started because another teacher was willing to let me into his classroom.
He shared his ideas.
I built on them.
And together they became something completely new.
One of the biggest misconceptions new teachers have is that asking for help is a sign of weakness.
It’s not.
It’s one of the fastest ways to become a better teacher.
Every veteran teacher you admire has borrowed ideas from someone else.
Teaching has always been a collaborative profession.
Teacher Takeaway
This week…
Ask one veteran teacher if you can observe one class.
Or ask them one question.
Better yet…
Ask them:
“What’s one lesson you’ve taught for years that your students still love?”
I promise they’ll have an answer.
And chances are…
They’ll be excited to share it with you.
Some of the best lessons I’ve ever taught…
…started as someone else’s idea.
Your Planning Period is Yours
One of the biggest lies I believed as a new teacher was that every minute of my planning period had to be spent planning.
It took me longer than I’d like to admit to realize that wasn’t true.
It was the week before state testing, and you could feel the burnout everywhere.
The students were exhausted.
The teachers were exhausted.
Even though I didn’t teach a tested subject, it somehow didn’t matter.
Stress has a funny way of spreading through a building.
At that point in my career, I had convinced myself that my planning period belonged to planning.
Even if I already had next week’s lessons ready, I’d keep tweaking slides, rewriting activities, or trying to make the “perfect” lesson.
I thought working harder was the answer.
Looking back…
I was just making myself more tired.
Eventually I hit a wall.
So one day I decided to do something completely different.
Instead of staying in my classroom…
I walked down to the gym where my buddy Coach B. was teaching P.E.
I jumped into a pickup basketball game with some of the football players I coached.
For thirty minutes…
I wasn’t thinking about grading papers.
I wasn’t thinking about lesson plans.
I was just enjoying being around my students again.
That’s when something clicked.
I didn’t need a better lesson plan that day.
I needed a better version of myself.
Sometimes the best thing you can do for your students isn’t spend another thirty minutes perfecting tomorrow’s lesson.
It’s spending thirty minutes recharging so you can actually enjoy teaching tomorrow.
We spend so much time talking about avoiding teacher burnout.
But burnout doesn’t usually happen because of one really hard day.
It happens when we never give ourselves permission to recover from the hard days.
Teacher Takeaway
The next time your planning period rolls around, ask yourself:
“What do I actually need right now?”
Maybe it’s planning.
Maybe it’s grading.
Maybe it’s making parent phone calls.
Or maybe…
It’s taking a walk.
Talking with another teacher.
Shooting hoops in the gym.
Or simply sitting in silence for ten minutes.
Your planning period is there to help you become a better teacher—not just a busier one.
Protect your planning period like you protect your lunch break.
Because the best lesson plan in the world can’t replace a teacher who’s running on empty.
Your Classroom Should Work for YOU
I’ll be the first to admit…
I was pretty timid during my first year.
Before becoming a teacher, I’d spent six years in the Army and another six years working on the railroad.
Both careers had a very clear chain of command and a very structured way of doing things.
In the Army there’s an old joke:
“If the Army wanted you to have a wife, they would’ve issued you one.”
As ridiculous as that sounds, it captures the mindset.
You don’t just do things.
You ask permission.
That mindset followed me into teaching.
I didn’t feel like I should bring anything into my classroom that wasn’t directly related to teaching.
Then I started walking through other teachers’ classrooms.
And I noticed something.
Nobody else’s room looked like mine.
Some teachers had coffee makers.
Others had mini fridges.
Microwaves.
Lamps instead of fluorescent lights.
Comfortable chairs.
Family photos.
College flags.
Little things that made eight hours in that room feel a little more like home.
That’s when I realized…
They weren’t just decorating.
They were building a workspace they actually enjoyed being in.
So that weekend I decided to make a few changes.
Nothing crazy.
I brought in a mini fridge.
A microwave.
Hung up a couple of college flags.
Just enough to make the room feel like mine.
That Monday my principal walked in, smiled, and said,
“Hey Mr. P., I’m glad to see you’re finally making yourself comfortable around here. I was starting to worry you weren’t going to stick around.”
That one sentence caught me completely off guard.
Then my students noticed.
One of them looked around the room and said,
“Dang, Mr. P., it still looks like a bachelor pad…but at least it doesn’t look like you’re going out for milk and never coming back.”
My middle schoolers were a little feral, and I loved it.
That’s when I realized something.
Your classroom isn’t just where your students learn.
It’s where you spend eight or more hours every single day.
It should be a place where you enjoy being.
Making your classroom work for you doesn’t mean spending thousands of dollars on decorations.
It means creating a space that helps you be your best.
Maybe that’s a mini fridge.
Maybe it’s a better chair.
Maybe it’s a lamp so you don’t have fluorescent lights pounding your head all day.
Whatever helps you feel comfortable enough to enjoy coming to work…
Teacher Takeaway
Pick one thing this week that would make your classroom feel more like your space.
It doesn’t have to be expensive.
It just has to make your day a little better.
Because when teachers enjoy being in their classrooms…
Students usually enjoy being there too.
Your classroom shouldn’t just be a place where students feel welcome.
It should be a place where you do, too.
Don’t Be Afraid to Teach Outside the textbook
One conversation with my principal completely changed the way I teach.
And it happened after one of the most boring lessons I’ve ever taught.
Remember when I said I was pretty timid during my first year?
That didn’t just affect how I set up my classroom.
It affected how I taught.
I was convinced that if I strayed too far from the textbook…
I was somehow doing teaching “wrong.”
Then came my first formal observation.
I knew it was coming.
I had everything prepared.
My SmartBoard was ready.
My worksheets were loaded.
My students came in, grabbed their packets, completed the bellringer…
And we did exactly what I’d planned.
We opened the textbook.
Read the next section together.
Filled in our worksheets.
I modeled answers on the board.
Everything was…
Fine.
About thirty minutes into class my principal quietly stood up…
…and walked out.
She didn’t say a word.
Which somehow made me even more nervous.
Later that afternoon she asked me to stop by her office.
I was preparing myself for a long list of things I’d done wrong.
Instead…
She looked at me and said,
“Joe…
You’re doing fine.”
Then she said something I’ll never forget.
“I want you to challenge yourself.”
She told me that I am a first year teacher, and as such no one is expecting me to be perfect or to get every lesson right.
She reminded me that I was a first-year teacher.
Nobody expected perfection.
She told me…
If you’re looking for permission to try something different…
You already have it.
So…
I took her advice.
Our next unit was the Cold War.
Let’s be honest…
Convincing teenagers to get excited about Cold War policies isn’t exactly easy.
So instead of assigning another worksheet…
I partnered with our technology teacher, Ms. K.
We told students:
“Your job is to create a game that teaches someone about the Cold War.”
t could be a board game.
A card game.
A video game.
Whatever they could dream up.
Ms. K opened her classroom.
Laser engravers.
3D printers.
Design software.
If students had an idea…
We’d figure out how to make it happen.
It was incredible.
Students weren’t asking,
“Is this for a grade?”
They were arguing over game mechanics.
Testing each other’s games.
Revising rules.
Talking about history without realizing they were talking about history.
By the time the project ended…
Students from other classes were stopping by asking if they could play the games too.
That project completely changed how I thought about teaching.
Students don’t remember the worksheet they completed on a random Tuesday.
They remember the experience.
They remember building something.
Solving problems.
Arguing ideas.
Laughing with classmates.
That’s when real learning happens.
Teacher Takeaway
The next time you’re planning a lesson…
Ask yourself one question:
“Is there another way students could learn this?”
Maybe it’s a debate.
Maybe it’s a simulation.
Maybe it’s a podcast.
Maybe it’s a game.
You don’t have to reinvent every lesson.
But every once in a while…
Give yourself permission to surprise your students.
My principal thought she was giving me permission to try one creative lesson.
What she actually gave me…
…was permission to become the teacher I wanted to be.
Learn Their Story Before You Teach the Lesson
One of the biggest mistakes I made as a first-year teacher happened before I ever taught a lesson.
It happened because of a folder…
…that I never read.
Before becoming a teacher, I’d never heard of an IEP.
Or a 504 plan.
As a student, I knew classmates learned differently.
But I had no idea how much happened behind the scenes to help them succeed.
So when I started teaching, someone handed me a folder full of paperwork with students’ names on it.
I’ll be honest…
IInstead of asking questions…
I put the folder in my desk drawer.
I figured if something ever came up…
I’d deal with it then.
Well…
Something came up.
After our first quiz, one of my students absolutely bombed it.
Even though it was open-note.
I couldn’t understand what had happened.
Then came the meeting.
The special education teacher.
The student’s mom.
And me…
Completely unprepared.And trust me when I say this..
f you think your mom was protective…
Just wait until you accidentally ignore a student’s accommodations and meet their mom.
Looking back…
She wasn’t upset because she wanted to make my life difficult.
She was advocating for her child.
And honestly…
She had every right to.
After that meeting I practically sprinted back to my classroom, opened that folder, and realized… I still didn’t know what I was reading.
So I swallowed my pride and asked one of our special education teachers if she could help me understand everything.
She smiled and said,
“I’d love to tell you about my kids.”
It takes a special kind of person to teach special education.
They’re not just teaching students.
They’re teaching other teachers.
They’re advocating.
Encouraging.
And fighting for kids who don’t always feel understood.
The more time I spent in the resource room…
The more I realized something.
These weren’t “IEP students.”
They were just kids.
Kids who joked around.
Kids who loved video games.
Kids who made fun of each other.
Kids who had dreams.
Kids who happened to learn differently.
Learning the accommodations made me a better teacher.
But learning the students…
Made me a better person.
very accommodation on an IEP exists for a reason.
Every 504 plan tells part of a student’s story.
The paperwork matters.
But the student matters even more.
Teacher Takeaway
Before the first week of school is over…
Read every IEP.
Read every 504.
Then go one step further.
Learn one thing about each student that isn’t written anywhere in those documents.
Because your students are far more than a diagnosis or an accommodation.
The best teachers don’t just know what their students need academically.
They take the time to understand who they’re teaching.
Parents Are Your Teammates
One of the most uncomfortable moments of my first year happened because of a phone call I never made.
About six weeks into the school year, I realized I had several students failing my class.
And the weird thing was…
They weren’t troublemakers.
They were funny.
They were kind.
They were smart.
So I kept asking myself:
“How are these kids failing?”
Then progress reports came out.
Parent-teacher conferences were scheduled.
And that morning my principal reminded everyone to follow up on phone calls they’d already made home.
That’s when my stomach dropped.
I hadn’t made any calls.
Not one.
At first I had all kinds of excuses.
Lesson planning.
Classroom management.
Grad school.
Trying to survive my first year.
But if I’m being honest…
They were still excuses.
So I made the calls.
I scheduled the meetings.
I had the conferences.
And afterward I realized something:
I didn’t need to contact parents more often only when things went wrong.
I needed to contact them before things went wrong.
The next week I tried something different.
During a review game I told my students:
“The winning team isn’t getting bonus points. They’re getting a positive phone call home.”
Suddenly everyone was locked in.
Students were answering questions.
Encouraging teammates.
Actually wanting to win.
And I learned something else.
Not every student wanted me to call a parent.
Some wanted me to tell their coach.
Some wanted me to tell a band director.
Some wanted another teacher to hear something good about them.
Because every student has a cheering section…
It just doesn’t always look the same.
That changed the way I think about parent communication.
When the first call home is a positive one, parents stop seeing you as the person who only calls with problems.
They start seeing you as someone who’s paying attention to their child.
And when a difficult conversation eventually has to happen…
You’re not starting from zero.
Teacher Takeaway
This week, make three positive contacts home.
They can be:
A quick phone call
An email
A text through your school system
A message to a coach or sponsor
Look for students who are improving, helping others, or simply having a good day.
Positive calls don’t eliminate hard conversations.
They make those conversations feel like a partnership instead of a surprise.
Teaching is a Marathon
The last lesson I learned during my first year is probably the one I still have to remind myself of today.
Teaching is a marathon…
Not a sprint.
If you become a teacher, you’re going to hear a lot of opinions about your job.
“You get summers off.”
“You only work seven hours a day.”
“It must be nice.”
“It’s basically babysitting.”
I’ll be honest…
Those comments used to bother me.
Not because I wanted to argue with people.
But because, over time…
I started trying to prove them wrong.
I stayed later.
Graded more papers.
Spent more weekends planning.
Answered emails at night.
Chased perfect lessons.
Somewhere along the way…
I convinced myself that if I just worked hard enough…
I’d finally feel like I was doing enough.
One Friday night I was at a football game with some friends from my railroad days.
PrepiVio 