Teachers do not burn out like candles blown by the wind.

They fade like old photographs —

slowly losing colour,

silently losing contrast,

gently losing clarity.

It doesn’t happen in one moment.

Or in one semester.

Or from one batch.

It happens the way erosion happens:

grain by grain,

layer by layer,

year by year.

This is the sad underbelly few talk about:

the slow death of passion in people who once entered the profession with fire.

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Scene 1: The First Lecture vs The Fifteenth Year

A young lecturer on her first day:

eyes bright, voice trembling, slides neatly arranged,

a heart full of excitement.

Fifteen years later:

same classroom, same content, same benches,

but her energy has settled into routine,

her sparkle softened into duty.

She still cares.

But the caring is quieter.

The erosion has begun.

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Scene 2: The IIT Corridor Confession

A mid-career professor walks with his colleague after class.

He whispers,

“I don’t feel the thrill anymore.”

His colleague replies,

“It doesn’t vanish in one day.

It evaporates slowly.”

Both keep walking in silence —

not depressed,

just resigned.

This is emotional erosion —

not failure,

but loss of internal rhythm.

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Scene 3: The Private University Lounge

A faculty member stares at his laptop.

He once created new case studies every year.

Now he reuses the old ones.

Not out of laziness,

but because he cannot find the spark that once pushed him to innovate.

He sighs to his friend,

“I am not tired.

I am empty.”

A quiet, devastating line.

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Scene 4: The Global Parallel — New York University

A literature professor says at a dinner table,

“My students are sharp.

My subject is beautiful.

But my energy is… leaking.”

Her colleague from Toronto responds,

“Teaching is a giving profession.

But nobody taught us how to refill ourselves.”

This is emotional erosion as a global phenomenon —

not unique, not personal,

just universal and unspoken.

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What Causes This Emotional Erosion?

1. Endless Administrative Weight

Forms, reports, dashboards, inspections…

The bureaucracy steals the emotional oxygen needed for creativity.

2. Repetitive Cycles

Teaching the same content for years slowly numbs curiosity.

Curiosity dies first. Passion dies next.

3. Lack of Recognition

Students move on.

Institutions forget.

Administrations never notice.

Society underestimates.

Teachers give endlessly, receive rarely.

4. Emotional Burden of Students

Their anxieties, struggles, breakdowns, and expectations sit heavily on teachers’ hearts.

And nobody asks teachers if they are okay.

5. Stagnant Professional Growth

In many places, career growth is not linked to excellence, innovation or reinvention.

It is linked to years served.

Passion hates stagnation.

Stagnation kills passion.

6. The Quiet Loneliness of Teaching

Teachers stand in front of crowds every day,

but emotionally, they often stand alone.

No applause.

No validation.

No community.

Just performance.

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Scene 5: An Evening in a Government College Campus

A professor sits on a bench at 6 PM, watching students leave.

He smiles gently.

Then whispers to himself,

“I used to go home excited.

Now I just go home.”

He is not sad.

He is simply worn.

Emotional erosion is rarely dramatic.

It is quiet… like dust settling.

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The Hidden Signs of Emotional Erosion

1. When teachers stop asking questions

Curiosity has left the building.

2. When classrooms feel like duty more than dialogue

The heart is still present, but the spark is extinguished.

3. When feedback becomes “routine”

The emotional rhythm of teaching has flattened.

4. When vacations become recovery, not rejuvenation

The profession has become draining instead of nourishing.

5. When laughter becomes rare

The soul of teaching is dimming.

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Scene 6: The Café Table in Tokyo

A professor confesses to her friend,

“I still love teaching.

But it doesn’t love me back the way it used to.”

The friend smiles sadly,

“That’s what happens when the system takes you for granted.”

Both sit in silence.

Because they know it’s true.

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The Emotional Underbelly Truth

Teachers do not lose passion because they stop caring.

They lose passion because the system stops caring about them.

Passion is not infinite.

It needs nourishment:

• autonomy

• recognition

• respect

• inspiration

• trust

• community

When these disappear,

passion quietly withers.

Not dramatically.

Not loudly.

Not with rebellion.

Just with tired acceptance.

This is emotional erosion.

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Underbelly Essence

The real danger is not that teachers shout less.

It is that they feel less.

Not hatred.

Not frustration.

Just numbness.

A profession built on inspiration

cannot survive emotional erosion forever.

And unless academia learns to refill its teachers,

classrooms will keep losing the light

one quiet, tired heart at a time.