So as I mentioned before in my previous post about how to stop being a perfectionist, yes, I work with kids. It is my dream job to work with kids because honestly, the idea of having meaningful work. To give something to the kids. To give them childhood. To give them love. And to be there for them. And get paid for it? SIGN ME IN.
Well, actually, working in kindergarten in Germany is just the very first mandatory steps to be an Erzieherin, or early childhood educator, in Germany. But my dream is to work in a Wohngruppe. Or basically, groups of kids until teenagers living together because they could not live with their parents anymore. Whether because of abuse, addiction, or any serious dangerous problems. But for me, it was such a dream job that came true. Or maybe I just like to feel important and have a savior complex. Or just want to heal people. I do not know. But let’s say I enjoyed it. Deeply.
Every day I go to work, play Uno, sing songs, and get paid for that. Or paint the kids’ faces and get paid for that. Sometimes it is just wonderful. Those moments remind me why working in kindergarten in Germany feels like the right path, even on the tough days. But I won’t lie, most of the time it is just a series of sensory overload.
A kid is crying in the corner, her little face crumpled in that heartbreaking way. A kid got bitten, the mark already turning pink, and they’re looking to me for comfort. A kid calls from the toilet, voice tiny but insistent. And I still had to prepare for lunch. It is sometimes a bit too much at the same time, all these needs pulling in different directions.
Table of Contents
The Real Struggles of Working in Kindergarten in Germany: When the Dream Meets Reality
But oh my god, where do I begin? So I will not ramble too much and this blog would not be too unstructured, but oh god, anyway, we have AI to structure it, so let me ramble. My group was completely okay for a year or so. We had our routines, the kids knew what to expect, and us educators moved like a team that had found its rhythm. But then the next summer, when we rotated the people, or the educators, everything shifted.
Our group got a new young, freshly graduated educator, bringing fresh energy but also new dynamics. Some older kids gone to school, leaving gaps in the group that the younger ones filled with extra noise and uncertainty. And oh god, I am writing now in November, and it does not get better. It is so wild. It has been an extremely wild quarter, and I must say I am extremely exhausted, burnt out. This preschool teacher burnout creeps in slowly, like a fog you can’t shake, making every shift feel heavier than the last.
There is this one preschool kid who stands out in all this chaos. He literally just threw a doll chair on the wall one afternoon. I tried to stop him, because what was that?! Then he ran away from me, his laughter turning sharp. And then he just screamed at me all the time, disturbing me for absolutely no reason when I wanted to clean up a bit, and three kids just followed along, turning one outburst into a full group frenzy. At that moment, I had my own personal problems too, things weighing on me from home, and it was just too much.
I just cried and hugged my colleague, her arms a quick anchor in the storm. I must say, this kid has not changed so much. This boy still runs away, playing chase me with other colleagues, and just exits the kindergarten without a second thought. Throwing stones at my colleague during outdoor time, and even chairs when the mood strikes inside. It’s like he’s testing every boundary, or just the personification of the devil himself. He ENJOYS it.
My team told the parents about it, laying out the incidents one by one, hoping for some partnership. And you know what the funny part is? They do not believe it that their sweet lovely kid would do that, lol? It’s like we’re describing someone else’s child, not the one they drop off every morning with a kiss. And we came up with an idea, yeah, we could record him acting up like an evil beast, just to show the raw moments that words can’t capture. But even thinking about it feels heavy, like another layer of work in an already overflowing day.
You know what, I would like to talk about two points that keep circling in my head amid all this preschool teacher burnout. First, kids are not responsible for this; parents do. It’s not fair to pin the wildness on these little ones when so much of it stems from what they see and learn at home. Every pushback, every refusal, it’s a reflection of patterns set before they even step through our doors.
And second, kids know much more than you realize, and they know exactly what they are doing. Thanks to the parents too. They are the iPad generation, entitled in ways that make interactions tricky, manipulative, slow to pick up on sharing or waiting their turn, and they think they are the main character in every story unfolding around them.
These kids have literally no respect anymore to any of us educators. And it is exhausting, this constant erosion of simple boundaries that leaves you drained by lunchtime. This constant ten minutes discussion that they must wear jacket when it is two degree outside. Working in kindergarten in Germany should be about building trust and joy, but lately, it feels like holding back a tide.
The parents do not support us and even blame us for these behaviors, turning conversations into defenses instead of solutions. Ironically, a four-year-old boy came to me one day, eyes wide with pride, and said he got a new iPad. Excuse you, boy? You are four? What do you mean new iPad? Like it’s a routine upgrade, something every kid needs to stay occupied.
The parents just gave up on parenting and let iPads do its job, and it shows in every distracted glance and short fuse. No kids have any concentration skill anymore; they could not sit more than a minute without fidgeting away. They could not speak properly yet, sentences tumbling out half-formed from too much screen time and not enough back-and-forth talk. It is fully crazy, and I could go fully ballistic talking about how nasty these parents are and how us, childhood educators and elementary school teachers, are suffering the consequences. We pour our energy into shaping these early years, only to watch habits undermine it all.
And mind you, I could count with fingers from 25 groups who I can pick and bring to my practical exam because almost all of them are not safe enough that I am sure they can behave. The very bare minimum: just sit, listen, and not disturbing other kids. It’s heartbreaking to scan the options and realize how few feel steady enough for that showcase moment. Working in kindergarten in Germany has its structured beauty, but these unstable dynamics turn it into a gamble.
I genuinely want to help the kids. But they cannot be helped at all because of the parents. Then you know what? I will help myself instead and quit working in Kindergarten in Germany.
Unpacking the Anger: Kids, Parents, and the Toll of Preschool Teacher Burnout
If you think I am angry at the kids, yes I am. Because they know what they are doing. They know exactly! They always ask for things nicely when they need it, those polite little voices. But when we ask back, tidy up or share the blocks, they would not listen. They really think they are the main character, pulling the strings in their tiny worlds. But I am much angrier at the parents. What kind of people you guys are? To drop off these bundles of potential and then act shocked when the challenges show up?!
I still remember the moment when we had a festival. And I could paint the kids’ faces, turning cheeks into butterflies and foreheads into stars, their giggles the best reward. There is this one mom with four kids. Two older daughters, one boy in our group, and a baby. I turned my back for a moment and the next moment I was speechless. The two older daughters just took my sponge without my permission and paint their baby brother. And the mother could not even control her boy, that is also very difficult for us in the group. She had to tidy up the toys her son has played with.
But this boy is a liar. He lied to us many many times, spinning tales to skip tidying up or going outside, and even to the mom without blinking. And we know why: the mom let it! No consequences, just a sigh and a move on. This boy ran away from the mom during the games, hiding himself. And as time to go back home, the mom had to look for him, frustration etching her face while the other kids tugged at her sleeves.
This boy threw a sponge at me when I asked him to give it to me, right in front of the mom. And I had to tell him, I want it properly, voice steady but firm. I was angry at the mom! Why am I parenting your kid?
The Bigger Picture: How Parenting Shifts Are Fueling Preschool Teacher Burnout in Working in Kindergarten in Germany
Well, I get it, these parents might have it hard because they had too strict an upbringing from the boomers, rules carved in stone with no room for error or play. But they really just reject parenting and went extreme and dismissive. Like? You do not make it better at all, millennials, if you want to hear it. This is terrible. This is absolutely disgusting what you guys have done to your kids. It damages your kids, leaving them without the tools to navigate emotions or relationships. It damages other people, like us educators. It damages society.
Gosh, so this entire experience has been beautiful with the kids, those quiet connections like a shared secret drawing or a hug or a kiss on the cheek. But unfortunately, it gets worse. And it will still get so much worse in next decades. And I am so sorry for elementary school teachers picking up the thread. And if they still want the job, they are such angels, with patience that seems endless. But I am not an angel. I am a human with limits. The preschool teacher burnout hits when you realize those limits are being tested daily, hour by hour.
I work 16 hours weekly and yet I am so tired and I just scroll my phone all day after working.
I am pissed, at the disconnects that make simple days impossible. I am writing this as therapy for me, letting the words spill to make sense of the swirl. Because gosh, this would not happen in Asia. I do not care what you would say. The German kids are respected, given space to explore and question in ways that foster independence. But the Asian kids respect the elders, that ingrained politeness and awareness of others woven in early. It must not be extremes, but a balance should find its place, where freedom meets guidance without one swallowing the other.
https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC3753558 A comparative study (updated citations in 2025 lit) highlighting cultural parenting differences, like German emphasis on autonomy vs. Asian focus on respect and hierarchy.
Working in kindergarten in Germany taught me many things. I do not want to raise my kids here in Germany, not in this environment where boundaries blur so easily. I do not want to associate or sympathize myself with parents that cannot even correct the kids, who see discipline as outdated rather than necessary. And most importantly, one and a half years in kindergarten is enough to teach me how not to raise a kid. I’ve seen the pitfalls up close: the over-reliance on tech, the avoidance of hard conversations, the way unchecked freedom can spiral. It’s a crash course in intention, reminding me to aim for that middle ground in my own future.
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